It started as a talk
Just before dawn
I went on and on
Like the chatterbox I was
Till the clock struck four.
How could you know
It was all my fault?
The bathroom door was unlocked
A clear invitation for you to crawl in
Break rules, you can never mold
How do you know
About the protests
that never escaped my mouth
Time clasped in your grasp
Windows of hope crushed to shreds
Yet no noise could be heard
How do you know
About all the struggles on the wet floor
Doves locked in cages
Blood fed to cravings
Just past four
An asphodel battling for a place in power
Calendulas waiting for fate’s approval
How do you know?
About the shame
Creeping through my veins
Skeletons scrambled up in the foreign space
Abhorrence when my name
Is said more than twice
All due to memory
That unfortunately took over my life
How do you know
What’s it like
If the experience is far from your touch.
This was written by our contributing writer, Siwaphiwe Matha.
Image Source: Unsplash, ola szkolda
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