Gift And A Curse Poem by Kondwani Simwaba

Gift and a Curse
I've been blessed!
Warning! The following statement is an Oxymoron:
I've been fortunate! Gifted with a curse to write, to overflow with endless poetic content like a broken faucet.
On some nights this is the best thing that's ever happened to me alright, but on some; tis' but too burdening a gift to posses and I get haunted.
To always want to put into writing every detail of pain I go through some nights and all so as to complain in a way that most won't comprehend, I swear these words have me taunted.
But I can't say that I don't enjoy it, see there's a certain inscrutable pleasure I get from charming my pen into bleeding; a certain onus lifted every time I pen my pain down and my peers wonder what inspires me to write daily but see my whole existence is an inexplicable muse in itself.
I've been Hexed!
Caution! The following message is but a paradox:
See I've been Jinxed! Cursed with a gift to be prolific in my writing, now don't get me wrong am not complaining; I love this more than life itself.
But sometimes, this poetry takes up too much space and I forget to just be me; how my brain and heart are constantly fighting, this proverbial balance it's meant bring is subconsciously dividing and I need some time with self.
Someone said, that poets ought to know that not everything is poetic; I guess that joke too was on me, so how the hell do I close my third eye?
How do I begin to just be me, when all the role models I've ever known seem to have disappointed me and everyone I love seems to either hurt me or get hurt by me; call me clumsy but poetry seems to be the only thing that understands me.
See, I've never done poetry any wrong nor has it to me; never gets no moods swings nor shouts at me for not calling or doing something other than it demanded; it compliments me in the ways in which I may never know from humans.
Never opted to leave me nor made me feel like I owe it for being there with me; never pointed fingers at me or blamed me for my lack of patience and I lack a lot of it but poetry has really been the truest friend I've ever had.
So you see, I've been cursed with beautiful gift; a therapist that comes at no cost and the only thing I can always run to whenever I'm feeling lost.
I've been blest!
Admonition! This whole poem is a complete trope; because I've been blessed with a Gift and a Curse and I take pride in it...
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