They still insist that our love was the greatest sin …

We did the unforgivable
and mastered the art of disobedience.

Pure bliss became a place we created out of blasphemy.

We were promised a consuming fire for giving ourselves to each other.

But it never came.

The real pit of hell is making sense of all your absence.

I guess,
losing you to a false god is the price we’ve had to pay.

We made covenants with our hearts
even when the world refused to be our only witness.

With all my synonyms, I can’t hide the truth,
the heart that once loved you, still does.

With every piece of me, I’ve had to mend,
I have to remind myself that you left because I asked you to.

You told me, your father had a stroke and you were afraid he’d die.
But I’ve been programmed to interpret the fear of a black man into rejection.

How could I believe the purest definition of darkness would know how to stay.

What do I do with all your absence?

Some nights I’m convinced,
you are finally finding your back home.

On certain days,
I’m okay with finding ways to live with the pain.

Cover Photo by: Bafana Makhubo

One thought on “Hollow

  1. Pingback: Hollow — Sinawo Bukani | Untamed thoughts & Rumblings & Madness

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