Don’t you dare tell me that you love me now, because I kind of feel like it doesn’t really matter now.
See…when I longed for your love it was nowhere to be found.
You chose to play a game of “hide and seek”. You hid your heart and made my poor soul seek it.
I’m tired of seeking your “faded out” love and I swear once I turn my back on the idea of ever finding it, the only way forward is teaching myself how to forget about ever being in love with you and learning how to fall in love with a deserving heart.
I’m sick and tired of the long scruffy journey I’ve walked in search of your hidden heart.
I’ve nursed myself way too much and I’m about to become iskhorokhoro.
With all the bruises I got from thorns of your cold heart,
Scars I got from dried out branches of your heartlessness,
Scratches I got from your “bob-draaded” selfishness,
…and wounds I got from stepping on pieces of your shattered-broken mirrored hate.
I’m done, ngiyas’thula les’gqoko. I will not allow you to do as you please with my feelings.
Game’s up, you better find your heart because my soul’s seeking days are over.