I love myself
so much that
I love you
so much that
you have to
start loving me
so much because
we are but one
beneath our differences,
dreams, and desires.
I can't stop
giving myself to you,
until our souls merged
and immersed in bliss.
You are wonderfully
and beautifully crafted
and configured just for me.
Believe it or not,
I deeply love you.
My soul loves you
and i need you.
My heart is
your next day
dwelling place.
And right here,
this man and
that man was
born there.
But i will be
waiting for you
with love right here.
©2019,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.

A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of Hell
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't

I say your name
A prayer in the dark
The same way
Your mother gave it to you
Whispering it
Into your hair with pride
When you were born
She had heard God
Seed it into her stomach
I say it now with love
For I know no other way
It will carry us to the altar

Praying for answers
Begging for silence
We thought
Heaven was high
Here we are falling