At seventeen, I understood the world was a balloon balanced
on a pool of love that we thirst for. I learned there is no point
in believing in me as I'm still in myself. I thought that there is no
more to poetry than love and darkness but I can't just end the
reflections on the girl on my sheets that my nose sends warnings
to tremble at the passing by of her perfume. Believing it's
normal till it lasted a year of a heartbreaking story of love.
At seventeen, I added the brakes to the ride of my times at
the sight of gusts of love when not even on my path. Alot of
me got broken as they couldn't get a sip from the sea of
love that floats everywhere. Love wanted me, it hunted
everyone from its perched tree of time most doesn't seem to understand.
At seventeen, I decorated the walls of my chest
with bulbs and snowflakes in a cozy den I built there, a few years
behind seventeen to crave bliss from shattered promises when I
saw no other home outside me. I scolded myself with tears and
smiles I expressed with the ink from what bounded us, kept the
world floating, love. As a seven outside teen, I learned to live as a
marsupial, with myself in my pouch of love. I discovered all my
cravings slept in me. We can't exist to love without self-love.
Oladejo Abdullah Feranmi is a Nigerian-based writer, orator, and a veterinary student at the University of Ibadan. He has been trying to pursue his enthusiasm for writing by penning multiple genres. He inhabits currently Ibadan, Nigeria where He appreciates reading and writing indoors. He has his works published in anthologies.
At seventeen is a work giving a voice to older teens. Some have been through it but it hasn't been through them. I think it will enable teens to embrace inner joy more.