I thought I was over you.
By the time I fled
Little did I know
That what we had was more than a few.
Here I am,
Barefoot at the balcony,
Gazing unto the moon,
Waiting to see your shadow.
The bruise hurts,
The pain aches,
Our love is bitter, but
It’s the only cure I’m prescribed for.
Featured image by Kelly Sikkema via Unsplash
About the Contributor
Olga Colombe Nyampinga is a writer and a poetess who believes that written lines and words can help many people since what is said can be easily forgotten compared to what is written. She expresses her inner voice through writing and is planning to publish her debut poetry collection this year.
