after Samuel A. Adeyemi

i am trying hard not to think 

about what it means 

to carry a country 

to walk into another poem

with a bullet         t-r-a-i-l-i-n-g 

my steps                              awaiting 

a punctuation 

that hints at joy

here     anguish cosplays

as happiness

& everything can dress in green & white

& green   until you wear the colours

& your body begins to bruise

& the milk white pages begin to rust

& you step into the sunlit street

only to return to your mother 

as night

as a cremation urn

as a [                      ]

i still cannot arrive at the metaphor

to capture 

the faces of my brothers

trying to cross this border of blood

into something close to nirvana          

trying to walk into anything 

that takes the shape of God's hand

trying to pull their bodies           out 

of these trenches

only to be shot by popo 

for trying 

for not wearing a beautiful smile

dear fatherland     

what else do you want 

aside a life you’ve not given me

tell me what you want

& i would give everything 

as an offering

to not become a citizen 

only by death