If the Sun Were You

In The Sun Were You — a poem by nublaccsoul

Then some days the morning wouldn’t rise -

It would plead, ‘two more hours please’, as it snoozes the waking-alarm again,

Muttering some unintelligible excuse too.

Thankfully it’s winter, so the dawn can stay in bed until just before lucky hour seven.

Today it would smile brightly, almost painfully like you always do when your face sheds light.

With just enough warmth in the room to induce a hazy, drowsy state to my always sober self,

Blinds closed, but some fierce rays still pierce through, like moonlit thoughts of you illuminating onto my darkness.

Even after you said I was too much, an overwhelming experience that was a lot to ‘take in’.

No Nivea to shield me against the harsh elements of your words.

I was humbled like the soil.

The sails of my pride torn by the tearing winds of your tone.

And it did not help that the seas weren’t calm,

my Peter-feet cold to walk on.

But the never changing grandma-soup warmth in your voice

sings melodies of Sotho blankets enveloping me.

The fulfilling feeling of being empty, knowing I poured the last of my soul into…