By Musa Gift Masombuka

I enjoy staring into the darkness
It stares back at me
Breathes – it still stares at me
I close my eyes — It still stares at me
I want to know what it thinks.

Lost. Engulfed. Nothingness.
I scream. Vent. Cry. Point fingers.
It stares at my bleeding wounds and cracking scars Understanding but still does not speak.
But why does it feel like I belong here?
Voids filled. Pain dissolved. Numb.
Identity reclaimed. My life.
Nothingness. Like darkness.

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