In the deafening noise of my suffering
I hear your silence
And when I wince and fearfully shield my eyes
I see you are not there
I have become numb
But I feel the absence of your touch
In my presence, the stench on hopelessness reeks
But it’s a scent so familiar, I can no longer recognise it
And I cry
What was my offence?
And I cry
Where is my defence?
But in all this
I sense your gaze is fixed on me
I won’t taste defeat.
