i remember the last time i was with him
his lips tasted of salt, vinegar and dishonesty,
the room orbited as i looked into his eyes
i almost threw up but how was i to let this love go wasted
when time and soul were spent to keep it alive,
i remember how his finger searched through my skin for her,
digging out my skinned bones as he called me by her name.
but has heaven ever looked like hell ?
im not her.
but has heaven ever looked like hell ?
im faced upwards searching for god,
prayers rolling out in tears as i let out a rehearsed moan.
but has heaven ever looked like hell ?
i love you still.

“love must be a terrific thing.”

—philile mvundla