To what I owe |

By Portia Uwase Zuba

Poem Details

  • Written by: Portia Uwase Zuba
  • Published in: 2016

To what do I owe a shallowness that competes with that of the Arctic?
To what do I owe a hollowness that is hopeless and gut wrenching as a bottomless pit?
To what do I owe failed relationships even those that I should have fought for?
To what do I owe the hypocrisy that threatens to suffocate me and ruin every ounce of happiness that I might get?
To what do I owe my secrets that are not only my enemy but also help me push away the people I should hold close?
To what do I owe my poor sense of judgment that flaws my vision of the world?
To what do I owe a prejudice that anyone with a fundamental difference from me is the ultimate happiness?
To what do I owe the mess that I am?

Is it the fact that I have never been pleased with my blessings?
Is it the fact that I have always broken my promises even those that I should have kept with the most urgency?
Is it the fact that in many ways than one I have always ignored my creator?
Is it the fact that I have never been able to make those close to me really happy?
Is it the fact that I have taken for granted every opportunity to amend the mistakes I have made?
Is it my temper, my awkwardness, my injustice, my helplessness, laziness, or childishness?

Well, this goes to all those who see me.
Understand that I am not broken inside, but shattered into tiny fragments.
Understand that the smile plastered on my face is to hide the turmoil and confusion inside me.
Understand that I am a struggling piece of work with no sense of control over her life.
Understand that I am a cry for help
Understand that I am still searching for the one place that I will truly feel comfortable
Understand that I need clutches, prayers, and a person to help me get home.

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