Her name should have warned me,
Warned me that she was a rolling stone that never rested at the bottom of the hill,
That she would roll and roll till she landed on the shores of my sea,
That she looked for herself, for knowledge, in everything and in anything at all;
When I wrapped her in my arms,
Kept her within my sight every night,
I should have known,
That she would prod and poke,
Her fingers reaching even beneath my skin,
Where none should ever see.
I should have known that when she whispered those sweet-nothings to me,
My eyes were not supposed to be shut or rolled upwards in pleasure;
They should have been open wide and alert.
That temptress was up to something.
She should have stayed away,
When she started poking and her senses began reacting,
Reacting against me;
When the atmosphere that surrounded her got too uncomfortable to be in,
She should have just ran;
For my heart is a puddle of mud and dung,
The kind that dirties your white and never washes off.
My circulatory system is a sewage drainage system,
That is never pleasant to pass by.
My soul is a graveyard
Where bodies are dumped not buried.
There are ghost screams and corpse stenches;
It’s a do-not-approach of the greatest sort.
She should have known that when she tempered with macabre places like that,
Her entirety would ever be tainted
Ever so malodorous.
She should have never glanced my way,
My soul is worse a killer than Jack the Ripper;
Liable for the murder of other dead souls.
Had she stayed away,
She never would have wound up just another statistic
Of the walking dead
In a place where foul odours linger.
Tsebo: (origin: Sesotho) a unisex name which translates to English as knowledge.
Mpho Mathaba is a young lady from Lesotho who is going through whatever motions her passion for the pen leads her to. Mathaba is an only child and has known syllables to be her closest siblings, forming a very great relationship with words as she grew.