Campfire Tales

If travel to the past was my power, I would use it constantly like my favourite briefs. I would go back to stare at brewing storms and dropping rain on the night I was born.
If I could go back,

Me, I and ati would be marinated magnificently in my vocabulary as I convince myself to learn more of my beautiful bantu languages. I would draw on my blank canvas in Ngoni anything other than wenye.

See, if I could go back, I would make my mother laugh whenever she came home and she cried on my makeshift shoulders. Wipe her face, stare and tell her no beautiful noises after 5 we don’t want jealous neighbours.

If I could go back, I would do everything twice, especially the mistakes. Like, hide the books of a 6th grade girl I had a crush on 6 more times, 12th times the charm I’m sure.

Or answer none of the questions during 12th grade math period, because Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows took me two days to read. I really could have done without the distractions.

If I could go back, I still wouldn’t watch trace all day, because cartoon network obviously. I learned to tell people not to forget that they were stupid. In 8th grade I fell in love with my bestfriend and that’s how she became my bestfriend.

See, if I could go back, She wouldn’t only be my bestfriend, probably also the first girl to break my heart, as these things generally tend to go. I would spend the last year of highschool love sick and wondering what I did wrong. That would be what I did wrong.

Then I would go out with her friend, not to spite her but healing, moving on and revenge for a highschool kid really are on the same corner.

If I could go back, I would stop myself from playing online during my gap year and travel my neighborhood, meet the girls that only ever seemed to leave their houses at 16 and make it home in time for a curfew that based itself on the sunset more than anything else.

If I could go back, I would have hugged my sister more at dads funeral. Told her to depend on me and that I will always be there. But she’s older so, she got to tell me that before I could think of it. Even an I love you would have sufficed. Like, I love how infectious and calming your laugh is, You big sis make me feel safe.

If I could go back, I would probably live there for a while. Gentle déjà vu on every corner. Noticing signs I completely missed. Enjoying the look of my carefree face as I contemplated whether a bath would be good for me that day. Watching myself learn how to shave and laughing at every cut I inflict on myself.

See if I could go back, I probably would never return. Memories of a boy chasing the sun. The story of an Icarus who constantly got burned.

The tribute of a life nowhere near its end. A journey that never really begun but a story worth going over and over again just to look in those innocent naïve eyes. Just to wish to go back in time, one last time, everytime.

Facebook: Mushasho Phiri

Instagram: m_shasho

Twitter: shasho_m

YouTube: M’shasho Phiri

Advertisements

Comments are closed.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: