AN AFRICAN VOICE (POETRY)

A MAN NAMED GUILT

And he became a stench and seeped out of you
quietly, at the edge of your reach he gawped at you,
his words were intractable and firm like boulders,
he hurled them at you,
he held you, his hands laced with rigor,
firm beneath the dense surges of his breath
and each relentless gush igniting one or two sparks of wrath
what fumes you would put off in that prison you call sleep
what prison you would love because it’s warmer,
what warmth you would clothe in that cold truth
but before you could
it struck you, so you pinched yourself and your skin made way
your nails caved in, wide open your eyes lay
he was still there.

If life be milk in a glass, then he waited until you spilled it
If his presence be a horn, then he blew it loud in your heart
Announcing how slippery the glass was
when the pieces had been scattered on the floor like broadcasted seeds,
hard to regain and put back together again
If his judgement be canines, then he ripped you to shreds
In and out like a dog does a doll
Like a wolf does a deer, oh dear
If your pain be a movie, then he had your tears as popcorn
If you be a ball, then he kicked you so hard against the wall
Chunks of paint fell off, you ran out of air, your heart was punctured
so, you pinched yourself and your skin made way
Your nails caved in wide open your eyes lay
He was still there.

I just started writing and I would really appreciate some feedback:)