6. Truth
DoBH – S&M ’23
August 22nd 2023
After much wandering through the fog,
After many turns at the crossroads,
After countless dives into the depths of my soul,
I think I can finally cast these thoughts into words.
I came to you a half-written story,
Believing myself a finished symphony—
Ready to harmonize from a place of melody and rhythm.
I thought I had reached the summit,
But that’s the thing about thoughts—
They paint a masterpiece we may strive to create,
And sometimes we get lost in the illusion, believing it’s already framed.
To reach the peak, there is a mountain to climb.
I have scaled some heights,
Delved into the caves of self-discovery.
It has taken many seasons.
That is what you glimpsed,
That is what drew you near:
The tip of the iceberg,
A genuine self I had just unearthed.
She is a gem, and truthfully, I am captivated by her too.
But you will turn away from her, for she is the reason I must go.
Her truth is unvarnished, raw, and even fierce.
I have faced her reflection.
She fills me with hope and excitement,
Yet she also reveals shadows in every revelation.
She shows me how, before the healing, I must expose the wounds.
And one thing I am certain of—I am prepared for this journey.
Which brings me to you.
I have done some self-excavation, my inner archaeology—
Well, some of it at least.
Walking with you through our shared landscape has uncovered what I feared most.
I reached for you from a place of drought,
Needing you to quench my parched spirit.
I sought you for my own oasis.
The strange part is, we both knew—I told you.
Yet still, we ventured on.
Promises dripped from our lips,
From your lips,
Those exquisite lips.
Hope flooded my heart,
A desolate desert transformed.
Expectation served on a beautiful golden platter,
A feast for the blind masters within us.
Masters desperately wicked,
Deceitful above all things,
How can we trust in them?
Now, together, we are compelled to retrieve what she unearthed,
Not with the delicateness of an archaeologist,
But with the desperation of a miner in a gold rush.
We must go north, follow our northern star, she says,
Into the caves of our beginning.
To lick and mend my wounds,
Heal this skin, to shed it anew.
But it is a solo journey,
And the caves will let in only one.
Deborah Nyamu,
DoBH,
2024.
