Plastic

Plastic

Chin up, shoulders out. Back straight, perfect gait. Hands on hips, red and full lips. Eyebrows plucked, limbs waxed. Skin scrubbed, hair pinned. Tight clothes, looks relaxed. Emotions deleted, feelings hurt. Opinions silenced, meanings lost. Perfectly obedient, not a rebel. Oppressed daily, humiliated constantly. Objectified easily, taken possessively.  One plastic human being ready! 

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Paradox

It’s a world of precise carelessness and fiery indifference, of secure abandonment and profound nonchalance, of teeming scarcity and not enough availability.  And in this world of paradoxes, meeting you doesn’t seem so strange anymore. After all, conforming to the norm has never been my forte, be it falling in love with the right person or giving it my all to make it work. And yet, when the world…

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Rainbow

“Tell me about yourself, I want to know!” You ask me to describe myself not in words I reserve for an acquaintance or the man taking my interview But in words that paint my insides and colour my sky, my definitions of yellow, black, red and blue You want to know, not judge, and I believe that’s what opens my soul to your inspection And I find myself telling you about that one time I fell in a…

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I Believed You

When you said you love me I believed you Your words were music to my ears, soothing my pain and washing away my fears When you said you’d always be mine I believed you Your confidence was hard not to catch, helping me through life’s rough patch When you said you’d never leave I believed you Your eyes had that bright light, and I thought you’d keep your promise, you might When you said you…

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Boring

When I saw you, the world did not stand still. There was no music playing in the background. There were no gentle winds caressing your face. There were no heart-shaped balloons floating around you. Time did not move in slow motion. Everything was normal, ordinary. My coffee still tasted bitter, my hair still stuck to my lipgloss. But maybe because it was so normal, so everyday, my soul fell in…

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The Definition

Love, my grandmother tells me, is the flower she sees every morning on her bedside table after granddad’s morning walk. She tells me it’s the toffee she hands out to the crying child at home. The view of her garden after a rain, and the perfect cup of tea made by my mother, is what love is. Love, she says, doesn’t conform to one person alone. Love, my father tells me, is the smile of my mother…

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