I feel a three-quarter space in both cups of my bra, about the same size I wore at age thirteen when my chest desired nothing but two soft flesh with a thick knot at both ends. Happy I was, I remember the colour perfectly. It had two pink straps with a polka dotted design on its front and i will pass my hand through the unbuttoned part on the upper side of my school uniform just to make sure its still there and holding onto my breast.
I will wear it to bed, and mum will come shouting from the bedroom take it off! so i could have a good sleep, but i still held on to my bra. It made me feel so matured, it made me feel for once the good lord gave me my own share of the property, it made me feel unique among the hard-chested too-known girls who will fill their chests with tennis balls and sometimes unripe oranges wrapped with a small piece of cloth and walk on their heels just to show to the world the new load they now carried.
Today, I am sad. I just realized that my breast breathes and no longer touches the ends of my bra. I can feel the metals piercing my chest cavity, they have become loose, they have nothing to hold. My breasts has fallen apart! They are jumping around angrily in my bra. They are cussing and screaming with so much hatred and contempt. Their internal mouths are opened with a dying need to spill blood. They want to fly away from my chest. They want to flee and never come back again. They want to die and be born again. They want to at least spend a night on the chest of their ancestors because they have been tormented. They have been bitten. They have been moisturized with an acid of pH 3.2. They have lost their pride so sweet. My breasts! oh my breasts wants to explode!
By: Sabukie Osabutey/ Radio Univers 105.7
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