.

After the realization, a blank space grew inside me.

Mainly it’s grey, though there are days when it darkens,

When it grows, the aching edges reach my throat,

I become silent and if I speak my voice feels like sandpaper,

The sound flat and hard, laughter an impossibility.

.

Mainly it lies quiet, but always conscious

Until some place, some person or situations stirs it.

I seek solitude, avoid the superficial, but also the digging too deep:

Noise and meaningless talk of nothings, shopping for unneeded things,

Meditating, writing poetry and getting really drunk.

.

Kampala, 2019