I slowly reached out for you
ready to say the words "I Love You"
then I suddenly awoke to the harsh reality
where not a glimpse of fantasy
can be found
cause your allegory is bound.

it was an exciting prospect
at first.
and then it became
hierarchies
and numb feelings and
several tragic cases
of teenage vanity.

some of them were so
caught up in themselves.
others were caught
in their minds,
cold and watching,
waiting,
for it all to end.

it was all about two things:
beauty and grades.
nothing in between.
perhaps we cried
over the shades of gray
that never were.

her eyes were always open
when you thought they were closed
because subtlety was her specialty
but not yours.
you smiled at her
and she would smile back
but it never met her eyes
and it never quite met yours.
you sent her empty promises
and words from hollow trees
she's aware that you don't care
she knows.
you treat her like a pretty thing
like a pretty little lamb
she's pretty, yes, but not ignorant
and she turned her back to you.

you can't blame her for your mistakes.

I'm a refugee

in a world of
—unmotherly
words

rooted in fatherland