HATE ORANGES
By Gloria Nyagaka
Today,
Whatever I touch
It mourns
It screams
It cries
Everything.
I broke a water glass,
At dawn
The orange juice in it,
It splashed.
All over me
My white top
That beautiful top!
I cursed.
That glass,
It didn’t want me,
It slipped,
As if it didn’t want me
As if,
It didn’t want,
To be in my hands,
The juice,
It despised me,
It didn’t want,
To be drunk by me
I disgust it.
I hate oranges
I blended them
For..
I don’t even know why
But I hate it’s taste
And it hates me too.
