in my boxers and socks,
I prop my feet up,
and hold onto my popcorn bowl a little stronger,
on the screen,
MY GREATEST HITS,
and boy do I miss this,
I press play,
pausing everytime I hear your name,
babe,
wishing we could rewind hands of time,
to press record watching you smile,
shed a tear everytime I call you mine,
but now all I can do is mime.
the scene where you gave me the green notebook,
the notebook I jot down all my pain in odes,
all in vain,
knowing you will not read me again,
leads me to the note you etched into the back page,
unknowingly into my brain,
forever,
Mrs. Kariuki.
forever kwangu kamaanisha mwisho,
kumbe wewe umeufikia ukingo,
na hizi zetu mbio,
za sakafuni.
I watched your 18th birthday too,
just the 2 of us,
too lost in the image of us,
as it always was,
watched you smile, shed a tear-
as they sang and danced bringing your birthday cake forth,
rocking back and forth,
telling me I'm dear,
tukipashana joto in the back seat of my car,
you'd always want me near,
darling why am I here?
Mapenzi kwetu nanga tusiyaweze,
mazito tusiyabebe,
juhudi zangu kaambulia patupu,
kampenda mwengine, hayanihusu,
seeing you happy without me,
ikanivunja, moyo wavuja,
silently praying you'll call me saying,
mpenzi tulia, nipo njiani, nakuja,
instinctively,
I raise my arm to let you lay in me,
but you're not there,
the loud fan and creaking floors,
kumbusho la kuwa,
mpenzi wangu hayupo,
yaliyosalia, this tape,
and poems I wrote about you,
that you'll never get to hear.
I turn the kitchen light off,
then the living room light,
and finally,
I turned the tv off.
The stairwell light remains forever on.
