The Lover's Lament - Poem by katongo kwendakwape
Like the ink flowing from this pen
So my hearts bleeds
Though I know once again my heart may bleed,
I doubt if it will ever this profusely bleed.
I am unable to remove the hand from my mouth
That restricts me from uttering the words
Though my eyes talk,
It seems like what they say is foreign.
But though they speak another language,
I believe that deep down in my heart
What they say you comprehend
Its only by this hand of mine that I can speak clearly
And by it words from my heart may flow.
I look at myself in your mirror
And wonder if that which houses my reflection exists
I see a hand reach out for me
But no sooner do I see it, than it quickly retracts
Our eyes seem to speak the same language
But it seems neither of us understands what they say
Our hearts are bound,
Bound by the language barrier that exists between them and our eyes
Do you understand what your eyes say?
I think I know what mine say
But I wonder if yours comprehend?
I think they do.
You are etched on the insides of my eyelids
When I close my eyes, its only you I see
I wish I could get you and place you inside my closed eyes
So that you could see yourself there
If what one felt could be tattooed on ones heart
My heart would testify how I felt to those who exhume me when I die
If by then I would have been decomposed,
My frail bones would be contorted to spell out your name.
What pains, and will pain me, is not being without you
But you not knowing how I felt
And me being unable to show you the big space in my heart that you occupy;
Not being able to show you the engraving of you inside my eyelids
That I see when my eyes are shut when I sleep at night.
Do you resent me for being sentimental?
I care less if you do
I would rather you did so than loving me for pretending not to be
This is what I am
Having exposed my heart’s nakedness, why should I enrobe it?
You can cast a shade of grey over the shinning sun
But you can never disguise its radiance
If you would reach deep down into the depths of your heart
And not find remnants of me and not let me know
My heart will forever weep for this injustice done to it
If I am just a tiny trace and your heart is smeared all over with another,
My heart will joy if that warms your heart.
Your eyes are happy
That is how I like to see them
They shine at times and sparkle with genuine joy
If happiness could be personified,
Your eyes are it.
Your eyes’ glare stops me from seeing who is in them that makes them happy
Is it me?
Is it another?
My heart will joy just to see them like this
Even if what’s in them that makes them so is another
I will betray what’s in my heart if I resented that joy
Your joy is more important than seeing myself in your eyes
That is the true essence of what I feel deep in my heart
That which flows from it
Like the ink from this pen.
This is the language of my heart
If my heart could write, this is what it would say
You may resent any other writing of mine;
You can un-read any other writing you read
If you had to, un-read them all just so that you may read this one
If you read and did not understand the language;
Tried to look but did not see
From the very first capital letter
To the very last full stop of this, my heart’s writing,
What they always and ever wanted to say
Is that which flows from my bleeding heart.
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