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I blame mama for not telling me that I didn’t know everything, that I’d have to learn some lessons on my own.
I blame my brother for not telling me that there are times he’d be gone like a season and will not be there to neither rain nor shine on me.
I wish my sister refused to give me her most cherished dress, for me to understand that the ship will not always sail with my course ‘cos sometimes the sea gets rough.
And yes! I’m angry at the love-filled bosom of my home for hiding the blemishes of the real world on it’s walls, from me.
How fear gripped my heart the first night I saw those flames of smoke ride up from the cigar hanging on my brother’s lips even with the knowledge that damaged are his lungs and might not hold his breath long enough to grow him old.
My eyeballs had bulged out when I woke up at 3am to find my mother drunk and wasted on the kitchen floor and “daddy,? He was gone.
I blame my pastor that only pat my head and spoke of the light only,  he refused to say that without darkness,  light wouldn’t be known.
Here I am, all grown and big only to realise that I’ve got more than a shadow, now am overshadowed by the shadows of my deeds, my mistakes and choices that got my soul crumbling.
Those nights when I cry out my heart in distress behind these walls; these walls that were my only audience when I took pleasures in my own flesh with my own hands.
Even outside these walls, my conscience mirrored my guilts;  guilts from the time
I lifted what belongs to him and her!
When I grinded the groins to get a pay!
When I killed under the pretense of defense!
When I watched my wrist bleed from my cuts!

But I’m glad Grandma always say

Child ,  there’s  a path lit up after the dark roads, but you chooses whether to stay in the dark cozy corners of life or you walk towards the light

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