Poem: Pain Plus Pain Equals Bliss, By Theodora Oyani

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Theodora Oyani

Theodora Oyani

So I married Layo,

White gloves and waving.
Stood off.
A mad night breaking
bonds.
Bursting forth; surname 
change and bedroom
tales.
First year, second year,
third year bump.
Ninth month, plump.
Tearing pain, warm wetness,
my agony. Vain.
Another Layo, beautiful 
baby. Got me arrays,
bliss – so pain plus
pain equals bliss.
Fourth year, fifth year,
sixth year break.
Dangerous to carry a child. 
Your life will shake.
Layo in rage, I am standing – awake.
My mouth feels it first,
my joy is at stake.
Layo’s blows raining
down, my head, waist,
face, throb. I slip into quiet.
Pain plus pain equals bliss.
Seventh year, eighth year,
ninth year shock.
When did it end?
This feeling of love.
Life is usual, Layo angry!?
He is gall.
It is fading, mum is threatening.
Leave that house, it is rotten, bitten,
smitten, gone.
8 weeks no blood,
my heart is up.
Layo comes home,
hits me. Blood.
Ten, eleven, twelve stop.
Layo in the study, 
my poison mocks.
I knock, I open, offer a drink.
He’s writhing and foaming
when the poison sinks.
Dragging his body,
watching it burn.
My mind is lifting,
my heart is healing.
I smile. Pain plus pain
equals bliss.


Theodora, 16, is a young poet, she writes from Middlesbrough, UK. Email: imueti89@gmail.com


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