On my liqs,

Well, she asked me why we drink;

I honestly didn’t have an answer,

Our temperaments had always varied;

I drank to pass time and not as a hobby,

I would choose nourishment over fermentation;

Was it pressure;

Anxiety made me drink a lot of water in the bar,

I refrained from what was distilled,

Cause of the downhill I had experienced.

“One glass of water please”;

“Yo chill you’re hella boring”,

“Get her something strong” they said;

“You can’t go to the outside to simply sip on water”.

I kept my calm;

I had to conceal my nervousness;

“Okay get me a cocktail”;

“Eh! gwe nakusobola gwe”,

Confused humans;

They assumed what you didn’t know.

On my liqs still;

One, two , three, ten;

Tequila;

The heat was intense;

I was a mess;

Why am I drinking again;

My emotions, life, friends, the comfort;

Sometimes you blamed the weather,

“Nga Lujuuju waaabela”.

Woken up on a cold floor,

With flashes of amnesia, scattered memories of things.

Only regretting the actions that accrued later on.

Did I speak too much? Did I say little? Was I flirting too much or was I somewhere in the middle?

Did I deserve this life;

Did my ancestors do the same;

Drinking entachweka enturira no muramba;

Okubinga embeho batungye obutagassi.

Did they pass out;

Or did they dance Ekitagururo;

To smoothen it in the veins.

Maybe the passage Abakiga nabasinzi, is prehistoric.

~ Ava Aster ~