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746 · Jan 2019
Salad in a bathroom
Nashira Oben Jan 2019
How to make a salad in a bathroom
Is like asking how low can one go
Why is this knowledge needed
When is it necessary
It is beyond me
How to make a salad in a bathroom
For whatever reason I shall answer
Salad is what you need first
Wrinkly as you in 50 years
Cut it with your razor-sharp mind
Like when you dissect your thoughts
and let them bleed
Until your mind is flooded
Add cherry tomatoes
The ones that match your brain, and your face
When you talk to someone you like
Next, onion, with its endless layers
Like the paint on the walls
Or people's personality when they encounter newness
Cucumber as cool as the toilet seat you're occupying
Thinking it as normal, in an Andy Warhol essay
Sweet Corn, sweet as the stain of soda on the floor
Sweet Corn the size of the bugs roaming in the corner
Add a little insanity
A pinch of self-pity
A teaspoon of unaccomplished goals
How to make a salad in a bathroom
Is the answer the one you sought?
540 · Jan 2019
Foreign Planet
Nashira Oben Jan 2019
I don't belong here!
On this foreign planet
With these foreign people
Strange habits, stranger minds
I can't understand, can't integrate
Can't find my place in this lost place
Can't find my truth in all these lies
Have to pretend, smile and nod
While tornadoes play inside
172 · Jan 2019
Mask in a Dream
Nashira Oben Jan 2019
A mask in your dream
Is a loss in your heart
A change in your soul
A lie in your life
When you dream of wearing a mask
You dream of the truth in yourself
You keep it secret, out of reach
Even you forgot it's there
You've been wearing a mask
For days, years or ever since
You let go of the person you knew
Embracing the stranger society fed to you
148 · Jan 2019
Wind-up Toy
Nashira Oben Jan 2019
Sometimes I feel like a wind-up toy,
you just turn the key and I start walking
Everything is fine, everything is working
Pitch perfect coming off the assembly line
Grim smile and modern style
Everything is good, everything is perfect
Until the key stops turning.
I wake up, I look around
don't know where I am, don't know who I am
Stumbling in the dark searching for a way out
For the real me, for the truth
Until the key is again wound up…
There are moments when I wonder Who I am. Is it truly me or is it just society`s creation?

— The End —