By Afifah Adi
Edited by Harith Syafiee
Credit: Pinterest
Could there be thunder whose noise,
Dare rival the sound of your voice?
One that struck through the lowest,
Layers of the shadowy walls,
A sudden heat had clouded your mind,
And so I sought shelter behind her,
Hoping she was enough to hold you in,
Only now I realize how foolish I had been,
To think she could, to think you would,
Gone she was now, leaving me to grapple,
With the sick reality that all I have is,
These four to push through for.
The drag of your feet terrifies me,
More than the lingering horrid dreams,
Every night I trick myself into believing,
That you’ll change so long time’s moving,
Just like how it deludes me to forget,
That you might not be all that bad,
But it’s been one death, doubtfully, since,
And some more months of soiled wars,
Yet my eyes can’t catch any glimpse,
Of change on your part, except for,
The one-time hope flickers when I think,
What if the fault isn’t on me?
Your name comes up wherever I go,
Sticking to me like taunting reminders,
That I will forever carry your trace,
And they will forever say your name,
Where the stretch of their smiles is proof,
You aren’t hated like how much I hate you,
And they talk about you in full nice tunes,
One I doubt to ever get around to quite agree,
When I’ve been the one to witness, to receive,
The harsh side they somehow couldn’t see,
Or you didn’t show, or they were fooled,
And you have been faking it.
It has been a wonder swirling in my mind,
Screwing deep as it echoes of things I wish,
Weren’t so, where you weren’t unkind,
And they weren’t wrong while I’ve been,
Blinded by the blurry lenses of immaturity,
So who of you could they have been seeing?
Because I know you have never been one,
To hide, to shy away, or to mask the twitch,
Of distaste on your face, so perhaps, I reason,
They have been playing along with you,
And I hold this close to be true just so I can,
Believe the fault isn’t on me.
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