Numb as I struggle over treacherous terrain

With upturned knives instilling uncertainty

In each step I take towards me:

Myself, that which I am not.


Deaf to words, yet drowning in the noise

Eating at me like waves of a tormented ocean

As I strain my ears to trawl out the whispers:

My words, drops in the ocean.


Mute as I scream, adding to this noise that surrounds me,

I tune it out and hear my whispers before losing

Control and drowning again

Like drops in the ocean.


Blind to myself as my sight is consumed

By everything else:

I can’t focus on me, some calm glimpses flash by erratically

Like drops in the ocean.


All that remains is my taste:

A carefully guarded sense – with teeth.

Although untrained and naïve, it can find me

Because although my efforts may be drops in the ocean

I am a stormy ocean encapsulated in a raindrop cocoon:


When I fall on your bone-dry desert and beautifully burst apart,

I pray you’re able to swim.



Jonathan Malan

Laat 'n boodskap

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