Gone

I called.
He said he was busy.
He will call back.
I waited,

then -
I was about to call again
when -
I had a feeling,
the most daunting I have ever had;
as I searched within the pockets of my sadness,
I analysed his patterns,
scrutinised the process that had occurred,
I realised he no longer wanted to be here
and there was nothing I could do. 

So -
my body let go of me,
in defeat,
I couldn't stand on my feet,
I cried.
I really cried.
Like a grieving widow. 
Realizing even if I called him,
he was not coming back,
resenting the finality of that phone call. 

I cried.
I really cried. 
Like a grieving widow. 
Feeling trapped in a sinking ship
I couldn’t get out of
and there he was
swimming his way
out of that deep end of the ocean,
left me alone,
all my efforts to restore
wasting away like spilt milk. 

I couldn't deny,
it was too blunt and bold in his voice
like it had been waiting for me to hear it,
for some time now. 

By Ziphozakhe Hlobo