Everywhere, everywhere
bits and pieces everywhere
the evidence speaks for itself
darkness makes its dwelling there…
I boarded up
the windows of my heart
blacked it out
the setting sun
could not shine through
nor the rising of the moon
did my best not to be like you
But I think I am…
Just a little bit.
Screwed up,
screws loose,
you can hear them rattling
when I walk by.
Screwed up,
screws loose,
Rattling like a tambourine
inside of me
The perpetrator’s song
echoes through the corridors
of my mind
Your voice
makes me tremble
and shake
and not in a good way
not in the way
that lovers sing about
it fills me with fear and doubt
and all is shades of black and blue
when I’m reminded of you.
If you were to touch me
again
I would crumble into ash
Even though I wish I was better
I wish I was strong
the sea could not wash
away the wrong…
But maybe someday
I’ll rid myself of you
Shake off the ashes
of the boy you burnt
And maybe someday
I’ll stop believing
everything’s my fault
Perhaps I’ll be able to erase
that night, and perhaps replace
the memory with something
happier instead
The day your song stops playing
and I stop hearing
Your voices in my head.
Andre Darius Labuschagne is a poet, musician and pastor from Johannesburg, South Africa.