'Heart collector' by Onwutuebe Ucheoma

I am a heart collector

Hanging the artefacts of every misadventureNow my walls groanUnder the weight of each pain I’ve created

Mathew,The room you made for me was too smallI was too tall for the bed you laid for me

MarkI am not worth your ‎tearsI am not worth your sleepless nights

Luke,This anger will corrode ‎ your mindSelling our story to press won’t make you rich

Dear John,Forgive me‎ but I waited for you to evolveNot many women know how to mother grown men

I am a collector of heartsHaunted by the relics of each misadventureAnd  nightly, my walls weepFor every pain I’ve created