When she opened her legs, I knew it was happening, her breast was like hot chocolates drank in a rush, one that you hope doesn’t finish- she was smooth, smoother than most girls I have met, she said she wanted more and I was ready. I crave Lagos, like vagina or vodka, a way that should be explorative, one that should satisfy me, I want to walk by the beach with my hand in my hair, pulling through every stride, I crave Lagos like the local jollof rice my grandma use to make, she uses local Maggi and lots of onions and dry fish, the palm oil had a different aroma, my grandma was a genius in the kitchen, why do people get old?
I used to proud of my breast, now I hate it. I hate a lot of things; let me live through. I’m too young for what I am facing, I will take a picture of my naked self when I turn 22. Say a prayer for me or two. It is hard being a girl; I want to just be Human.
When I left my house on Sunday I swear to whatever you believe in that I never had sex in mind. I just wanted to have my body touched. I wanted to get love or appreciation, maybe something to last a month or two, I took a book as a gift, maybe he will kiss me even more.