there is a tree overshadowing my house, that will outlive me.
yes, i am worse than alive. i am human.
& it almost feels like cheating, how i stare at the tree with a sly smile,
knowing that i can end my own life if i feel like the sun is too hot for
me to handle. but i ask myself everytime i remember that
trees are forced to live, once planted:
would i ever want to be the most silent living thing in existence?
— to never be able to call out for help when i want it to be over?
would i ever want to be forced to live patiently until death decides to visit?
i am glad, because i am less damned than i could have been.
there is a warmth i feel when i remember i have flesh & not bark,
blood & not sap.
i have given this feeling many names.
you will probably call it gratitude.
Temidayo Okun (he/him) is a Nigerian poet who prefers to be referred to as 19. he likes catching snowflakes & writing flowerbombs. his works have been published or forthcoming in literary blogs & magazines such as Hey Young Writer, Afrocritik, Pawners paper & The Serulian. he was also shortlisted for the Akachi Chukwuemeka prize. Say hi to him on instagram : @mr_number_19
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