We were unwilling acquaintances
of separate worlds and separate minds
He, six foot tall and ready for revolution
I, five feet tall, with a dream.
Then, there was you
With your talk of change, transparency and a revolution we could all be part of
Camp to your politics of division and unity,
we were all called and all of us said yes,
all at the same time.
I still remember days of smouldering heat and burning grass as we lay on a ground we knew not to touch
They called us rebels. We called ourselves changers of a system we knew we could not change.
But then I slipped away amidst the haze as the screams got louder, the hate more bitter
I kept saying that wasn’t me. I did not want to become what you already were.
Perhaps, I already was.
Hypocrisy is a comical word. They all call you that
He, six foot tall and ready to defend you till the death of his own dignity
I, five feet tall, with an idea.
I told you long ago
That I had grown up
Altered for the better
Your hopes for sympathy
It was never love
A rocky distraction
Of youthful lust
And clandestine mistakes
I remember you
As I tell my story
To another one of you
Caught in a haze
Of blinding allure
Distracted as ever
I have not grown up at all (more…)
Narratives are often exaggerated
for fear of unaroused laughter and silent
mockers. There are those that wear diamonds
in their ears and walk around with side swept hair
and burnt broccoli in the pockets of their white collared shirts.
They do not care for comical stories of unrealized
imaginations and dreams of blemished rejects,
dark skinned and unlike their distant loves.
The world may talk of new beauty beyond sizes
and colors. I know white creams and botox
still make the most money.
Because he loved me the least and he hurt me the most.
Because somewhere I got tired of still waters.
I fell for tsunami waves, crashing on my shore
destroying every little piece of me. I hated him in the beginning.
I hated him in the end, but somewhere in between
I fell in love with the idea that the roar in his waters was meant for me.
He screamed and cried, and I cried too. And somewhere there
I began to see the words and melody that formed on my lips. It was
magic. But the painful kind. (more…)