Penis Monologue II

Unprotected,

Dismal,

Incautious.

Again,

You fucked her,

You fuck them,

You fuck anything

You fucking careless fuck,

I’m irate.

Do you remember the time?

You made me a promise

6th of December 2012, you talked extensively to me—man to manhood. How out of the ten commandments the seventh seemed to be the hardest for you to keep, you prayed to me the Lord forgave you, you talked about the rush of blood to your head at very awkward times, you even called me erratic as a way to shift some blame and I took it like a manhood, and I feel the carnage rising in me remembering your last adventure, taking me for swims in unprotected pools is not what I got attached to you for, random penicillin shots is not how I want to die.

We have drifted, we used to be close, and I used to happily come out charged with gumption. Every morning I was there to reassure you of your masculinity and to say “Hey, what’s wood in your hood?” happy, looking up to you and nodding approvingly to your weird standards in women, but now I get scared man, I get fucking scared especially now that you are in your twenties, you have worked me so hard in just a week span. You’re high on libido, high on drugs and you drink to full blotto that you don’t see your sexual shortcomings, and when you masturbate you squeeze me too stiff and I can’t breathe, you kegel so much like you want to rupture your kidney, sometimes I don’t even want to play, you know? But now you are just too desperate and overbearing.

Just so you know I have not forgotten, many years ago, the unfortunate incident with Gloria from Surulere, the neighborhood sperm bank. The events that name conjures reminds me of injection dosages, blood and urine tests, prayers to God to heal you, supplications that if you survived you would never go close to a woman. But you humans are the lowest form of scams and liars there are on the planet, I was stupid to have believed you. You were victim to Gloria’s giggly nyash that felt softer than Agege bread, an ass that could drag the moon out of its orbit, the type of ass you liked, an ass you always wanted to press your face and palm, to smell it and kiss it, an ass to be worshiped, the day you finally touched it between those face me I slap you walls your hand sank all the way in between her legs and you got hooked—up, down, line and sinker. If you had any sense in your head you would have focused on peeling oranges and selling groundnuts for your auntie, but you watched as guys in the hood called after her, you listened to stories of how they touched her and it touched you, you knew her reputation in the hood, she is Calabar and fits the stereotype with those light skinned women. At first she was a little girl who went and came from school, but she grew big breasts, the slash of her black hair turned from something to pull at water pumps to something to stroke and pull in the dark, she wore stretch pants and crop tops, assisted at her mother’s local ogogoro bar, and was popular for being an easy lay. She slept with Onume, Tobe, Louis and big Antony, guys way older. After you survived that you promised me to be a good, you promised…

I have had tough times with you; it hasn’t been easy to live with. Sometimes you made me play when I didn’t even want to because you’re impulsive. Looking at pornography and naked images from Tumblr to get me in the mood, one time you lost all complete fate in me and took Viagra, it made me extra happy but that is not the point!

I feel a lot better now that I vented, you need to be a better caretaker. I want comebacks but no glove no love, and not all the ass in skirts, sometimes I wonder if your brain works at all, the blames for its poor thinking makes me weary.