Without Him by Muhibbah Yahya


Without you I have been nothing but a broken shell holding up a façade of wholeness,
For how can I be whole when without you I am half agony, half wonder completely and irrevocably incomplete,
I sit starless night after night gazing up in search of the star that was once subject to your dandy,
But night after night I am fruitless,
Because like half of my soul it has twinkled out
Leaving nothing but a cold blot of darkness where you once lay,
I wonder night after night; have I left your dreams uncalled, untouched, empty of my presence,
Or do I plague you as you plague me,

Have you forgotten how my eyes twinkle under the candle light,
How my touch felt, light as rain yet, yours as damaging as a storm,
Do you remember the veil that hid us from the world, serenading us with the chitter chatter of the world beyond us,
I have forgotten them, as bright as my little white lies might seem I have,
For no matter how dead the barely beating part of my life may feel,
It’s still beating, faintly but strong,
Which means I can go on, I crave for your presence as much as I abstain from it,
And so I pretend I have forgotten even though you’ll always grace me like a phantom,
Always there but never quite

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Pencilmarks and Scribbles Magazine was founded in 2017 by Clara Jack to be a home for African writers, asking them to come as they are and giving them room for growth. The publication aims to give back to the Nigerian Literary scene for the things it has given us.