Family Pills

We live from pill to pill and most of us have once overdosed
 
 
From my younger sister’s eye sight problem and shortsightedness
and “why is everyone making fun of me”
To my other sister’s adolescence stage and different boyfriends
with different cars and different wallet sizes
To my brother’s rage attacks and alcohol abuse
and money problems and self-isolation
To my mother’s stress levels and antidepressants
and latest spiritual book on “how to get rid of all your problems”
To of course me and my hatred and bitterness aimlessly directed
at anyone who gives a fuck and drugs and sex-trades and the latest money schemes
 
We have all suffered severe mental breakdowns
 
From my youngest sister with the weight of the world upon her shoulders
always broken by her mother’s sadness
and her older siblings’ absence
 
To my other sister with pain of never having enough
whether it’s a blue Mac or a silver Corrolla
all you have to do is just suck the dick and get the cash
I know that life real well
 
To my brother who works hard each month
bearing the pain of his 9 to 5, I mean 6 to 6
and all weekends and all holidays
but still never has anything to show for it on payday
always needing the bottle, always needing to down his sorrow
 
To my mother who has given up but for her youngest one
She still wears her bravery façade and tackle life head on
hiding herself deep in her spiritual literature
and always wishing to leave the big bad town and live in the rurals
and finally wait for death
like the many that wait there now
 
To myself, involved in the latest heist
or poking my hand around some golden pie
or selling bitches on the streets to dicks with bigger wallets
Resenting the cash and wasting it on the stash
If not high, then out and about
 
What is there to live for anyways?
 
At least my mother is waiting for a promise of heaven
One day, when her youngest is also old enough to decide
she doesn’t need her anymore
She will then retire herself to her homestead and die in peace
I wish her well on that
 
At least my sister has big plans of finishing school, acquiring her political science degree
Form a feminist world/movement to help women
to never have to suck dick again to get ahead in life
One more year ntwana (kid), 1 more year
 
My older brother doesn’t care ,
whether the sunrises or the sunsets makes no difference
He is a slave
He wakes to work and commutes to sleep
At least he has someone who loves him
Who prepares his water to bath and lunch box for work
 
 
My younger sister doesn’t know much to dream further than
to seeing her mother happy, again.
to see her brother and sister home, again.
Hang in there Baby girl, hang in there
 
 
I also don’t care anymore.
Nothing moves my heart.
I have no dreams and no visions anymore.
Whether good or bad. Just None.
I spend a week sleeping on the streets somewhere
A weekend gone with the wind
I live in a world of flying bullets and betrayals
and sometimes, when I am too overwhelmed I write
I bask on the streets and shout my lungs out
 
Because there are no poetry nights anymore.