Curious foul thing

by Marné Swanepoel

You wanted it so badly:

To see what I was made of.

So badly that you cut me open

Just so you could admire a flood of

Countless colours,

A cocktail of blood and dirt and hurt.

Slowly, I feel, my roots,

Wrap around my surroundings

So, I have something to hold onto

When I let go of foul things

Foul things, like you.

PDBY publishes poetry submitted by University of Pretoria students. Submissions can be sent to All submissions can be read at

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