You ask me why I’m so angry all the time
I laugh because if I don’t I’ll cry,
I laugh because if I don’t I’ll cry.
And then you’ll call me emotional and hysterical
As if we’re still in the era of old where simple female reactions
Were pathologised and the bold locked up for being “mentally ill”.
You ask me why I’m angry and I simply scoff
And deny because if I start speaking about why
The rage in me will boil over like lava in a volcano
And then where will we be?
[pause]
I want to tell you,
I want to tell you why.
Why this rage, this utter, all consuming anger, this deep-rooted grief.
Let me tell you how I feel like crying whenever I hear about
Another **** case, another girl murdered for daring to refuse,
Another woman of colour who endured terrifying pain,
All because she was who she was.
Another minority violated, another black trans woman killed, her ****** unsolved,
Another child abducted and sold, like a commodity
Another another another
It never stops and it never ends
From micro-aggressions to gross violence
I feel it all in my heart
Like a stab between the fourth and the fifth rib
And it adds to my rage.
The words burst forth from my lips,
But I rein them in
Because even though I want to protest
Against your complete ignorance and your casual misogyny
And my being revolts in response to your words,
I stop myself
because you are my family, my friend, my peer
And if I say something
You’ll just ask me why I’m so angry all the time.
Sometimes there’s no winning
Resistance is futile
In a world so steeped in patriarchy
That it’s unaware of the consequences
Of perpetuating sexist narratives.
But I still want to fight
The oppressive systems that chain the girl child,
The casual way we respond to certain slights
Against the all encompassing freedom of women.
And I’ll take on a thousand such questions
If only I can change one life,
If only I can spread the word and fight the good fight.
And, I would have told you all this
If only you had asked.
If only you had the patience
To listen as I blathered on
About statistics and documented proof
Of how 50% of the world’s population
Is still under constant threat to their lives.
I repeat, fifty percent of the world’s population
Lives with a constant threat to their lives.
I would have told you about how there are thousands of accounts
Of harassment and abuse and violation of basic human rights,
The right to say no, the right to thrive.
I would have told you,
I would have told you all
If only you had asked.
So don’t ask me why I’m angry
Ask yourself why you’re not.

i was warned of an obsessive love,
an all consuming lust
i never believed in it
until I met you

i want to possess you
Crawl in between your ribs and curl up
around your heart
keeping it safe
from someone other than me

i want to tie you to me
like I'm tethered to you
and never let you be
more than four feet away

i want to leave bruises on your throat
with my lips
so that everytime you speak
you're reminded of me
i want to leave a trail of marks
all over your body
nail scratches and lovebites
so that whoever you're with
knows you belong to me

i want
i want too much
and you have no idea

your affection waxes and wanes like the moon
but unlike her
you come and go in no discernible patterns
you leave me parched for a glimpse
you let me glut on your presence
i sit shrouded in the dark
with my heart in my hands
and a telescope of yearning

i:
feel like nothing
like am nothing
nor was ever anything
nor will amount to something
insides:
scooped out like a melon
leaving a great gaping void
in the center of my chest
e m p t y
of thought, action, motivation,
drained of energy
of life of joy
of everything
e    m       t     y
of identity
e                     y
in heart
body
mind
soul
d
i
  s
   i
    n
     t
      e
       g
        r
         a
          t
          (i)nto
           (n)oth
         in(g).

a smile, a look, a touch
is all that's needed for them to think
you belong with me
(you do)
but you are not mine
not in ways they presume
when they see us together
and the ever shrinking space between us

you are not mine in ways that are well trodden
of obligation, of possession, of labels

but you belong with me
in ways that matter
in the way we talk just to each other
in the congruency of our thought
in the importance we have for us
in laughter and sadness
in sickness and in health

they look at us and they presume
but they can never know
how deeply I belong to you

i look up at the stars
and marvel
at the synapses firing
in those who looked at the sky
and thought of
making something out of scattered ***** of fire
where three dots in the sky
become the belt of orion the hunter
and the north star remains
the constant navigator
i look up at the skies
and see the stars as
they saw before me
and marvel.

.
          
           am i
 here
  why        
        pollut-
                              ing          
                                 the
                                 space
                            that
                    could
                 be
              used
                for
                 a
                        (better candidate than me)
                 ?

in the last throes,
we were chained by bonds of my imaginings
as I tried to drag you forwards
and you were an immovable object
until the shackles broke
and the scales fell from my eyes
and I realised
you were moving too
but in the opposite direction
and I’d just been too blind to see.

I am made of memories
Like photographs stuck on a string
With clothespin
I am a series of thoughts
One commencing from the tail-end of another
Like a giant ouroboros
I am a web of consciousness
Ensnaring, seducing
into the deepest darkest pit
Of an entangled existence
Wires crossed over
Synapses misfiring
I am made of half baked theories
And pieces of knowledge
A flawed perception
Of an equally flawed world

you call my name and my heart stops
before racing double time
a rhythm beating in my chest
in response to your voice

i hear phantom words
your phantom laugh
the phantom feeling of your fingers on mine
as you grab my hand
and we laugh together at you smacking me in the face
inadvertently

your hair dances in the wind
and i want to run my hands through it
we compare lengths
and i tease you, tell you mine is better
and you agree

you crack an unfunny joke and i laugh
because everything you say sounds funny to me
as if you’ve taken up residence
between my ribs
and are tickling them with your very existence

your shirt is open at the collar
and your neck calls to my lips
the impulse to trace patterns onto your skin
and leave a mark
too strong

you share a look with me
when you find someone else amusing
as if we are co-conspirators
a unit against the rest of the world

you hug me so encompassing
that i never want to leave the circle of your arms
i want to linger and hear your heartbeat respond to mine
and smell your cologne on me
for the rest of the day

you whisper in my ear
observations, jokes, utter nonsense
and my pulse races as i lean closer
snatching away these small moments
to keep with me
when you’re not here

I look at her from afar,
Laughter spilling from her soft lips,
Eyes ******* up in mirth,
Hand resting on his sleeve.
My heart constricts, fear renews,
And a thousand bejeweled words,
Are buried under the desire, the ache and the bile,
That rise with her smile.
Her mundane, uninteresting talk,
Washes over me as her animated eyes,
And feather soft tread hold me captivated.
A thousand fantasies spilling from the sight
Of her tongue roving across her mouth,
Her gesticulating hands, her glistening lip.
I, who she deems a close friend, betray her
By my thoughts, my wandering mind, my yearn
For her and everything that comes with her.
A harmless attraction transcends the mere physicality
Into the realm of emotion.

I held you in high regard,
your regard my deepest desire.

I wanted nothing but that spark of approval in your eyes
So I removed mine, blind to your faults,
And broke my bones, reattached them where you pleased,
mutated myself into a response to your needs.

I bent over backwards trying to make myself worthy of you,
worthy of a two second glance, of a slight uptick of lips,
when it struck me,
like a lightning bolt;
an epiphany.

I am not a contortionist.

I am not a mound of clay
to be moulded according to your expectations.

I am not water in a receptacle,
assuming the shape of it,
spreading myself thin or shrinking myself to fit.

I am the sea, the ocean, wild and free
and a little bit tempestuous,
a little bit uncertain,
a little bit blue,
but mostly,
not tamed by you-
not tempered by your desires-
not contained in your claustrophobic boundaries.

No more this simpering shadow of myself,
No more the swallowing of my words, choking on my laughter,
No more this false tittering at your behest,
No more the unravelling of my identity like a spool of thread,
No more the restitching of my being to be your best, not mine.
No more you, anymore,
Only more me.

lub-dub lub-dub
defense-less, defea-ted,
deafen-ing drum-ing
bea-ting heart
unwanted reminder of life

there are times when everything is impossible

when i am capable of nothing

there are days when i just can’t seem to move

to act to work to fall into the old grooves

worn into my life by routine and expectations

there are days when it is impossible for me to do anything

when the words i am possible make me want to curl up into a ball

or punch someone in the face if only it didn’t take so much effort

there are days when it is impossible for me to paste on a smile

times when it is impossible for me do anything but lie down

despondent and tired

it is impossible for me sometimes to care

to lend a single tear to you

a pitiful ear

there are things that are so out of my control that it is impossible 

not to feel helpless, not to roll over and say no

there are things that feel impossible

in their sheer ginormity

or even in the challenges they present

it becomes impossible for me to just snap out of it like you say

to make myself want to live again

it becomes impossible not to wonder
what life would be like

if i were just to sleep

for all of eternity

it becomes impossible to hope

to dream

to feel

it becomes impossible for me to do anything but sleep

lost in the land of dreams where the dull monotony of life

is transformed into the impossible creation of my imagination