Under skies where umbrage is stitched with thoughts, I ponder, on the days, like copper, reticence is bent when voices, hushed, rise and take their place,
with colors sharp as blades, of stories then that crashed against the wall of silence.

Muted. Muted. Muted for so long.
This voice, a titan, bones crumpled in fetal position and slid into a box has been gagged for so long. The body now unfurls, a sapling having been denied of its spring for too long.

And I’m waiting for the day when I can keep my head up, when I can speak up and say my peace, say my piece.

And I’m waiting for the day, no longer I, a sunflower with shoulders hunched, head bowed, lips crimped, wilting under the star I’ve always loved, basking in the warmth and letting the shadow fall behind me, am afraid of parading the reflection the mirror holds for me. When rights are not hoisted as hopeful words scrawled on cardboard for no eyes to see.

No longer hidden, walk with neither shackles or shame, unapologetic without otherness and doubt, to stand tall, shedding the cloak of unseen, burst into darkness like new born light for everyone to see.

Under the crushing weight of novelty, head stuffed inside a crown for the surd, Humanity watered down until it turns into a pulp of flesh, no more. No more, I say.

Pay me no nods, nor embrace, nor tokens, but vows that we would dine at a table and see the beauty of existence in your eyes, take comfort in your smile, and speak my mind as you freely could, when you get out of line. If you don’t know, feel free to unbuckle my shoes, fill them, take root in them, walk miles in them, get spat in them, get persecuted without a reason in them, take a number, stand in line, keep your mouth shut in them, go home in them, if there are holes, feel the burn of friction, weep, weep, weep and be laughed at, be told what you feel is not real in them. Maybe yearn for a word or two and let somebody, anybody know you are crumbling into them, like a cinderblock too weak to cradle fire any further in them?

Maybe only then, that in them, you’ll take my callused hand to sand yours, and we'll find the stars that guide us home to peace, and in that space, our voices intertwine, the beating of hearts are in synch, with heads held high.

Let me, in confidence, be worthy of the space I claim and of equal measure know what it’s like to live free and not keep waiting for the day.

Freedom, they said, was for all,
But it became a privilege—
rationed, conditional.
Laws were written in the ink of fear,
Meant to bind us but never them.
Papers dictated our worth,
Time slots our movements.
For what felt like endless seasons,
My world shrank to walls and whispers.
A yard became my horizon,
A car my only escape.
Truth was silenced,
Questions outlawed.
They called it protection,
But it felt like exile.
The Constitution became fragile glass,
Shattering under the weight of hypocrisy.
Freedom was not free;
It was a cage lined with lies,
Its door held shut by fear.
I lost more than days—I lost trust.
The land of the free stood still,
Its anthem drowned in passive compliance.

One must explore more,
To find an answer,
As We do not know—
Furthermore,
We’ve failed Those who have yet to come,
Since We could have found an outcome,
To answer Their call,
Forever more.

May be true they won,
So, we shall carry on.

Our greatest gift,
To be swift,
In complete darkness.

They shall be snide,
Keep your head held high,
For beyond the storm therein lies,
a beautiful grand blue sky.

Let them think they won,
As we carry on,
Headstrong.

Ready for whatever may come,
Showing everyone,
What we can become,
As we carry on.

Rain soaks our clothes, leaves us breathless and cleansed.
The lights bounce and shimmer; a thousand lights on us.
Coppery and acidic, but it doesn’t overpower the taste of you.
Drunken girls laugh into the night like gulls in the morning.

Ignore the looks; kiss me, put your lips on mine.
Smear my pink lipstick, make your pretty red stick.
Fist my sweater and pull my heart out; keep it with yours.
Tug the strands of my hair, pull me closer; don’t let the divider in.

It’s cold in the rain, so mingle our breaths
and create hot, steamy fog to keep us warm.
The lights are on us, but **** it; let’s give ’em a show.
They want the rain to drown us; let’s slow dance.

Hold my waist, reel me in like a love song.
Sip my lips like cheap beer, savour me like wine.
Bruise me like a peach; kiss it better.
Feel the wind sting our cheeks; try to blow out our flame.

Whispering in my ear, he’s looking, isn’t he?
Kissing the frown from your lips, yes, he is. Who cares?
Let the hateful ******* sneer and scorn.
I’ll still love my lover in this storm.