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.