JEREMIAD ON ROMANTICISM: "STAINED" BY KJUMAI

I let go of my heart when I decided to love you.

To let my heart be stripped of its hometown.

To detach it from the rib cage.

To remove the strands from it messing up my hands as I torture myself, openly.

Plainly.

All because of my choice, 

The verb.

The infinitive, 

"To love".

And I would be lying if I said it didn't hurt.

I licked the blood off my face.

I cleaned my face with my stained hands.

And I decided to give my heart to you.

Where are the moderate?

I would have opted for that.

For this is too painful.

As I have destroyed myself just for you.

KJUMAI

- Nigeria

The poet persona laments how loving a wrong person has derailed her emotions and the voice has nothing else to do, than accepting the force of depression.