A valuable life lesson
To all unenlightened seventh grade boys:
Being sons of the male gender,
First find a good sculptor near you
And a rock large enough to be your head.
Because that’s what it should be
Chiseled out of stone. Waterproof.
Because crying
Is only for pretty girls, saggy old ladies
And dogs with eye allergies.
And somehow,
If a stream trickles through the rocky outcrop,
And dares to dampen your sands,
Lick it with your tongue
Before it dribbles down your chin.

I watched my PE teacher
After I fell down and bruised,
My heart swelling into my throat
Like a bloated pink balloon,
Ruby red irises cracking under pressure,
Finally oozing like ripe mangoes.
Each drop paid by a slap.
Barely audible, I coughed, ‘why?’
‘Because’, he spat through clenched teeth
’Boys don’t cry!’

Turritopsis dohrnii: A species of jellyfish that can revert back
To a sexually immature state when its injured or dying, making it biologically immortal.

A jellyfish,
Nothing but thickened water
Some genetic material
Polythene bags and paper glue,
Is granted immortality.
We, humans
The heirs of a billion evolutions,
A million grains of life,
Crumble like sand castles
Scatter like sawdust.

The universe taunts,
Laugh until your shadow swallows you
Your every breath was a thousand last breaths,
Puny mortal.

You were special from the start.
I felt your hands when I met you.
I felt not just skin, but something different.
Something very soft, almost pillowy.
They were feathers. You were born with wings.
You soared in skies no human could ever reach
You heard secrets the wind told no one else.
But when the jealous world mocked you
You hid under the bed.
And when you could bear no longer
You cut off your wings
And tossed them away.
You could have
Just flown away
Leaving the
Undeserving world
To itself.

That night, he said,
        That night under tears and rain,
                You raised a man from his shadows
                        You taught me how to be myself again.

                        You tore your soul, he said,
                You let some seep into me
        Warm summer wafting
Through Frostbitten lips.

Don’t you turn, he said,
         Let your eyes flow into mine
                 My sweat dances spirals
                         Wherever your fingers touched.

                          Never ask me again, he said,
                 Never ask what came before you,
        For all I knew was darkness, darkness
Laced with rain and tears.