Poetry ( sort of )

Msiba

The last day you see her alive
She throws her arms around you
Lifts you up
Then squeezes so hard
It’s painful
But you love it
You love her hugs
She holds you tighter than anybody has ever done
You feel safe
Wanted
Cherished
And loved

She brings your face to hers
Looks at your eyes
You smile with your eyes
She smiles back
In that moment
It’s just you
And her
You feel fulfilled
You never want her to let go

She lets you go
Drops you down
Reaches into her bag
Gets a note
Worth ten shillings
And gives it to you
You get thrilled
You dream of the possibilities
The things you could buy with it
You run off
Never looking at her
Never thanking her

The next time you see her
She’s in a white dress
Her body still
Her smiling eyes closed
Her lovely face ashen
Her nose blocked with cotton
Her tender lips dry and deeply red
You cry
More than you’ve ever done
You’re eight
But the sadness you hold
feels a lot like you’re eighty

Other people cry
But you don’t feel their grief
It’s noise to you
You want to talk to her
In silence
Ask why she’s sleeping
If she’ll ever wake up
If her eyes will ever smile at you
Like they always did
If she’ll ever embrace you again
You want to ask why she left
Left you
All alone

You cry more
You never stop
Years rage on
You still cry
Albeit silently
In different ways
Your grief is inbound
You don’t share it
It forms part of you
Part of the people you date
You look for her
In them
Hope that they’ll fill the void
That motherly affection
They haven’t so far

In the end
You still grieve
And feel deeply sad
Constantly wishing her back
Even for a moment
To have her hold you
Hug you
Tightly squeeze you
Just to feel safe
Wanted
Cherished
And loved.

1 thought on “Msiba”

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