Pacifique Niyitanga

Phobia

And when I smell the fire

A bunch of worries

Reminds me of foes;

Persistent like a stain.

 

And when I smell the blood

Floods of memories,

O’ my woe’s echoes

Fill my fucking brain.

 

And when I smell the oxygen

All turn into stories,

Bliss grows as roses;

I break the pain’s chain.