If only I had a sweeter story to tell
Like, how my grandparents met
A stolen kiss
An old friendship
A golden ring
Instead, I speak of sadder things
Like a drunken soldier’s gun
Pressed firmly to the temple of his head
Or a belt, like noose, around the neck
of a folk singer/prophet
I wish we never met
I wish I never knew the ecstatic joy
of looking in your eyes
or at the stars
or felt the gentle touch of
your skin grazing mine…
But your caress
Sweet as it may have been
Was poison
Faint hint of almond and copper
In your kiss
Old water,
stagnant
A morass of larvae
That is what my mind has become.
Old water is tomorrow’s rain,
becomes tomorrow’s storm
And the winds are ripping me apart.
Maybe our affair was nothing more
than a manic episode
I should have known
better
Should have known
That good things are always
Better in your head
And now I’m stuck with Polaroids
Snapshots of what was
They flash before me,
On repeat…
Old water is tomorrow’s rain,
becomes tomorrow’s storm
And though I know you were a mistake
I’d do it all again.
Andre Darius Labuschagne is a poet, musician, and pastor from Johannesburg, South Africa. He is currently involved with various church movements – and his theological and philosophical beliefs are reflected in his poems. A recovering drug addict, his poetry also explores themes of mental illness, substance abuse, finding God, and the process of growing towards completeness.