Cheese Grater Poem by Joyce Msonda

I always smile.
Yes!
I always find the joy.
My god, I hate that word.
I hate it in name and in the way it feels.
Almost like being blindfolded
And forced to reach your hand in an unknown place.
I hate the way it follows me
Like a lost puppy.
I hate the way I feel it.
The way it chases me
Like it's got nowhere else to go.
I hate the way it reminds me of nothing good.
It grates me like aged cheddar
The kind you save for Sunday dinner,
The kind you'd pay extra for because you know it's worth it.
The kind you'd throw throw under the dinner table to your pet
Because you can't leave the dinner table until you've finished it all.
Suffocating my mind until
I smile again.