I woke from a dream of delusion
Loud thoughts within my mind
Lying I should pick up my pieces
and go to seek a mender.
That I did.
“Glue isn’t working,” he said.
“Maybe we should try a needle.”
But even that hurts and hurts
Because every hole shall be a memory torn apart!
“What is the cost to unlove?” tired me asked.
“What is the cost to unlove
When all you get seems to be tied to the past?
What is the cost to unlove,
When all your senses still wake to the same person?
“What is that cost
When you deny all the right offers
Just because you don’t want to lose
The feelings that remind you
That once you loved and you were loved?
“What is the cost to unlove
When you say you want to move on,
But still the world serves the same ticket
To one and the same destination?
“Was the cost to unlove,
Put on Lucifer’s bill,
And not be mine to pay?
Or is it because
Love is only what I got to serve?”
Maybe, I should let myself know
That this journey is mine to walk.
Though bittersweet,
I should taste each recipe served.
Though the needle may hurt,
It is meant to mend and heal.
With time I am ready to move past the past.
About the Contributor
Tekla Shimwa Habumuranga is a Rwandan poetess with a pen name of HST. Through her writing, she seeks to express the unspoken feelings, aiming to break free the mind and heart isolation of loneliness by spelling all, through written verses. She always loves to create a free space where people can connect through shared emotions and experiences. Tekla aims to unlock hearts and fuel courage, for those struggling with navigating their emotions.
