Compensation.

Forgive me for doing what I do to get through the day.

There’s this strange phenomenon that occurs with my mind, it slows down and everything around me goes on faster.

People can sound like they’re talking faster, and they cross out their checklists like seconds while I’m considering whether I want to do the third on the list today or tomorrow.

And now I’ve found a compensation. A mechanism, designed to push me ahead of my mind and body.

And it feels strange to be on time with people and not catching their thoughts after they left. It catches me off guard because now I have to participate in the making of the scene.

Am I fast enough to be real now? How much longer can I keep this up?

I slow down for one second and I’ll lose that pace and some of my sanity.

It may be wrong, but what does it matter? I’m picking up, jumping through herdles without breaking a sweat. Almost close to being that I should be, as you wanted me to be.

So is it still wrong? When two wrongs cancels out and makes a normal.

I can’t have it all and I can’t have it all right.

If it’s a sin, forgive me anyway.

Advertisements

Diaspora.

I’m afraid and so we’re running.

I’m afraid and it’s pointless.

I’m afraid and so I’m chasing

Behind pig tails, hyenas and lost trails.

It’s pathetic but I’m somewhere else.

I can be a wreck but that’s somebody else.

Trying to convince myself that I’m sane and everyone else is otherwise

Trying to widen my eyes by believing everyone else’s are restricted.

And I can’t be the blind one here, because look around…

Look at all of these little things that are constantly overlooked.

I would give my entire life for their magic but sadly I’m overbooked.

And fuck love-love love,

I don’t require it.

I just need someone who sees the magic as I do.

Walking on the same planet, in the same frequency and we see… the same.

I need another person on this planet.

I don’t need an entire planet of people.

I need another person on this planet with me.

Entranced.

His skin was dark, like late night December’s winter touched by moonlit villages.

His cheekbones were gentle, reminiscing of a mother’s handicraft.

His lips were soft, temperate from reading under his breathe.

His eyes were dawning, deepening with genuine curiosity of night owls.

Pulling me, drawing me in towards him.

My eyes can’t help gravitating towards him.

My hands are aching to draw him and capture that something.

That something that has entranced me into his lines, tracing his peaks and valleys.

Jump Out The Window.

I think I’m ready to jump out the window.

Decolourised.

Avoiding any kind of colour given off by people.
Even happy colours.
Because drinking it all up makes me feel good for a while.
Next day, I’m hungover.
Feeling the worst case of blues and reds.
Then it’s all black.
I prefer when it’s black.
There’s nothing to fight against.

Wishing Well.

Running around chasing wolf tails

Truth tells that nothing comes by like a fairy tale

Fools fell for myths of gold in the pit of wells

But hell, nobody deserves what wasn’t given to them

And nobody gets what they deserve by wishing on gold coins.

Never Again.

I don’t want to be paraded around for everyone to see your work. It’s not your work, it’s my work.

And I’m done with all of this.

I never wanted to be an object, I just wanted to be a person. I wanted to be my own person and make no profit out of my own ambitions. I just want to be a person.

I don’t want to be a role. I don’t want to be the eldest daughter, the third parent, the breadwinner, the retirement plan. I didn’t want any of that and that’s what you planned since my birth, but not what I agreed to.

I didn’t agree to being oppressed, to be molded into your vision. To walk the way you wanted me to walk, and talk the way you wanted me to talk. I am not the example to be made of, I’m just a child. Was just a child, and now I’m a walking child-adult, with barely a voice of my own.

You’ve bent and twisted me too much that I no longer hear my own voice in my head.

You never apologise for all the things you’ve put me through, still put me through. Instead just compensate the mistake I became by being better to the rest of my siblings so that they don’t become cold and empty like I am.

And mad. I am so mad. I’ve allowed all of this to corrupt me and twist me into being this way.

I don’t want to be paraded around like a monkey on a leash no more. And never again.