It hits you like a wave, doesn’t it?
The rawness of a story
still winding and coiling like a snake.
The thick air—thicker than the blood
that has also turned its back on you.
The smudged edges,
the temptation to invite a premature ending
to this mystery still unravelling—
it tastes like defeat, doesn’t it?
This elusive fate you wore when they named you,
suddenly too heavy,
too big for the shoes they once said you’d grow into.
I know they say that you shouldn’t look for imperfections,
but the little cracks have grown—
taller, stronger, braver—
bold enough to show themselves
when you catch a glimpse of yourself
in the morning.
But
if I could start over,
I still don’t know if I would.
Maybe it’s my love for mysteries,
but I’d rather carry this regret with me
than write a perfect story.
Everyone wonders how long this story will take to pen,
but I wonder
if I’ll still recognize myself
when I finally write the ending.
Collen Molahlehi is a South African published poet and short story writer whose work has been featured in a number of poetry anthologies, namely: Inscribed reveries, Shadow of the Soul, Letting in the light, and Mental Health. He is a two time, third placed winner, of both the themed 2021 and 2024 AVBOB mini-poetry competition.
Comments are closed.
Hit deep. I also wonder if I’ll still recognise myself in the end.