Day 8, by Andisa Shayi

By Andisa Shayi

During this time the few words I’ve been able to muster have been representative of the profound sense of stagnation I’ve felt within myself and with my relationships in these past few weeks, and in general. When you have no time for anything writing can be a delicious escape, but now with all the time in the world, I’ve come to also see it as scary and a huge imposition on me, as if the words are now saying ‘show us what you’re capable of now that you have no more excuses’. I teeter constantly between shooing this away, and then welcoming it with open arms.

Day 8

morbidly, you whisper
when asked for silence
restless children fill their mouths with
their forearms to kill the sound
and almost choke on creased cotton sleeves

What is there to do?
I am high on the scent of this house.

About the Author

Andisa Shayi is a German-born South African, currently in her third year of nursing school. When she isn’t in uniform or poring over textbooks, she finds a few quiet moments in the early hours of the morning (when her head’s the clearest) to pen a few words.

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