Wednesday, November 9, 2016

I wish I was MEDUSA, for once.

Most of the time, 
I feel damn proud of being independent.

But then,

Sometimes.
When people begin to grow taller with their words
I feel so tiny that I stand wondering if my left finger is enough to fill the lonely gaps on my right .

When automatic advocates of others vouch so strong
I wonder
...

If the spasmodic cringe within my ribcage is my imagination or really, solid.
If the blood in my mouth is sour as I taste or just a delusion.

That when would it cease to happen
That will a day come when I would feel strong someday without having to bite my tongue.

That someday my spasms will no longer by killed by my morality

That someday, will a strange voice from my back protect my front.
I wonder why do I feel pain when independence is such a dreamland for me.

Will I have to cut my tongue and bear the masquerade in the face of civilization ... Forever? 


That someday, will heavens open up
And shout 
and 
Scare
And scream
And lash every soul that trembled me.

I wish to be strong.

Strong like I imagine myself as

Strong like I believe I am.

Strong like I see myself as.

Will it happen?
My imagination grows without the colors of confidence. 
I see no future, yet I feel

Someday, 

If not my flesh or bones,
My shadow will grow taller. 

Then, vouch for me.
How long will I have to fight my battles? 
How long will I have to polish my sword day after day in pitch black night with a grumbling stomach on my own. 
How long will I have to wage war against the darkness? 

How long will I have to dream about light looking at the dripping bloodthirsty weeping angels?

How long will I have to try meditating with heinous hyenas camping all around me. 

How long, 
You.
God.

Oi.
Om Shunyata.

Oh, my west wind. Will you bite my fears, just Once.


So that
Finally

I can stop looking for the neverland.

Times like these, I wonder, 

Am I for real? I mean, perhaps I am a devil in disguise. A devil with Alzheimers. A devil in Coma.


I am so tired.

My sweaty thin life-hanging rope broke a long time ago.

I fell and hit the rocks.

Then I, 
crawled down the cliff
And picked up my organs one after another.

I sat down for centuries and sewed it all back. 

Head for feet and 
Hands for Chest. I sewed. I couldn't find my eyes
Or my skin.

I am so tired.
Would you Gods have mercy on me and Kill me? 
Just once.

You've heard me ask this since I was the li'lest.
I am so weary.
Tired.
And worn out.
Lift me up. 

So that I will never have to feel my feet touch the beneath.

So that I can just stretch and let the world pass me by. 

Please, just once no.
Kill me now. Just once.
I am so tired. 

I am proud to be on my own.
I wish my bones were heavier. I wish I was a giant.
I wish I was a hummer with a JCB body.

I don't wish to be a man. I wish I was not a Girl. 
I wish I was MEDUSA, for once. 

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