brown skin farmer girl (this changeling poem)

~

we are I’ve decided

alike and unlike.

I know, an epiphany.

we are both brown skinned,

the sun has wrested my skin

buried it in dark loamy,

soiled brown side by side,

now alike.


your hair is long(er)

now, mine too.

a cascading mountain ranging,

edging south from your Columbia,

to my  Columbia

over my ears, down my neck,

which like yours, dreams knightly

of being loved by endless kisses,

a prince(ss) charmant

~

we could not be

more different,

than how god us designed.

but here’s the rub,

people change,

they dream of becoming,

reinventing the original design,

and this explains

not the why, but the how,

how this poet came to write

this changeling poem.

~

and you think we could not be more different and
more alike, and you would be rightly correct.

The earth in which tired
city feet desire to rest on.
Plushly thick forests,
be lost and never found,
coating yourself in saturated
autumn leaves that
reflect the pulsing warmth
in the golden sun.

Your sticky honey,
rich and sweet pools in mason jars,
tempting to silver spoon scoop and
spur morning teas.
Or the mocha
in newly brewed coffee,
the bold and the cream
swirling inside your crystal *****.

Walking like a cowboy,
         that was wetter than dry...

                                     Humiliation...

Honey brown eyes
Yet cold as ice
Whenever
They look into mine
They look straight into my soul
They are of those kind
Those brown eyes
Whenever meet mine
They looked lost and amazed
Filled with enormous emotions
But precise same vibe as wine
I'd get drunk drown and lost in them
Till I feel sick and fine
At the same time
So many truths
Your  lips defies
But brown of your eyes
Never lies.

" you're not mature enough to handle it"
so apparently, I'm old enough to handle a back-breaking amount of schoolwork, the stress of living up to your expectations and that of two dozen relatives, the standards of a dysfunctional society, but NOT one, single BOY.

2. " it distracts you from your studying"
well no, not really.
Do you know what really is distracting, though? having to keep your favourite people a secret. all day every day. The anxiety of being discovered gnaws at your very existence. Deleted chats, deleted phone logs, deleted feelings. suppressing your emotions long enough to brainwash myself into thinking I don't care about him anymore. and YOU think I'm acting differently these days?

3. " it's not part of our culture."
since when did love become a foreign commodity? we are but robots with our hearts switched off till the age of 20. And when a trail of incomplete relationships shadows us everywhere, we're left fending for ourselves. Just cos no one taught us to love others right.

I can’t explain the way you make me feel
It’s almost as if it’s all too real
Scared to look deep in those brown eyes
Afraid of all the possible lies
I know your scared too
I’m scared to fall In love with you
What if I already have?
Do you even feel half?
Half of what I feel?
I’m to scared for this to be real.