how long more can
this game of pretend last,
when it's slowly turning
into reality?

you're slowly erased
from my mind;
that the pain of
the past is not
resurfacing anymore

but maybe—
I overwrote it
with denial,
that I forgot how

love, anger and heartbreak

once looked like on the
blank canvas,
of my healing heart.

would new colours,
be drawn across
anytime soon?

Maybe that's why
I prefer dogs;
animals probably have
more culture than you.

the way you take
quick glances at my trembling self
by the roadside,
with ear-piercing whistling—
does that excite you
as much as it scares me?

you made me look at
my long-sleeved dress
and ankle-hidden boots;
yet I question,
are my outfits deemed ******
till it entices your manhood?

I grip my bags firmly
and wallow in self-grief
for temporary relief,
as I fear more than just
compliments threw by
preys on the streets.

should you disagree,
of my brother,
whistling and signalling
your blood-sister,

should you disagree,
of my father,
oversexualising your mother,
then don't be a disgrace
to the ladies watching.