Written by: Admin_SheEvo
I have fewer stories hanging on my gullet.
Untold stories of moments we shared,
and the laughter that quaked the room.
This is because I do not write in times of happiness.
I went through my pieces—
they carry grief like an infant,
cradled in my mind to this day.
Darkness overshadowed those moments,
or perhaps I simply said less
during my days of awe.
So I came back to fill in the blanks
and talk about the good,
to strike a balance like a pendulum
that swings side to side,
like the yin-yang sign,
carrying light and deep darkness.
Yet, my mind sits still in silence,
mourning the goodness I once beheld.
Fingers all covered with glaciers,
melting and wetting the pages,
washing off the ink
that once attempted to tell your story.
©️Larona Tlhobogang
