Trust Tonji | The deaths that killed your mother broke your wings

Trust Tonji is the winner of the 2018 edition of the MLK slam competition, organized by the US embassy in Republic of Benin. He writes from Porto Novo. His poems have appeared in Voicemail Poems, Ethel Zine, The Friday Influence, Eunoia Review, Prachya Review, Synchronized Chaos, Kalahari Review, African Writer, Praxis Magazine, The Electronic Pamphlet and elsewhere.

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Also by Trust Tonji: Childhood Obfuscation poetry feature my demons came, seated

September 2019

Trust Tonji

The deaths that killed your mother broke your wings

1. there is a sentence stuck between your teeth like white full stops spread across a sickly tongue 2. come dusk, you will understand the privilege of light in its glamorous bow- out 3. somehow she has become your mantra with lyrics rising and falling on your smile and frown : like life mama, like life, mama you break me you make me you… 4. you are living your life without first understanding how to live without it 5. no one told you you won't find sleep if you keep asking yourself questions that belong to your shadow 6. I am disappointed that you're disappointed . now that you have burnt your tears you are like everyone transplanting the graves of their own 7. does your tongue hug the water because it's warm, and salty? 8. another bone is germinating inside your heart but it is not the fruit of your labor 9. you believe in things your mother did not believe in 'no girl makes a good wife other than she who can cook', she says 9. you say, 'no, mother. girls who cook cook because their mothers tell them that's what good girls do so they spend their days in the currency of hypocrisy' 9. your mother's lips fall apart 10. when you told her of your depressed friend who wants Jesus to unsave him 11. let's get this straight you, too, do not want to close your eyes again in the name of fear 12. in the name of the sins written in the middle of the hands you clasped in prayers shorter than the length of your shortcomings ; to hell with hell 13. : Amen

It’s been more than four years now that she died, but the death of my mother always invites me to examine the concept of death and love and the strings that hold kinship tight. This woman, love of my life, whose memories I constantly catch myself falling into, has been a huge influence on my recent writing. The things we agreed and disagreed upon, the little smiles and the tickles of emotions sometimes serve to pacify my soul, no matter how it is I’m feeling.

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