Friday, September 10, 2010

In my dreams, he comes to me.


When you paint your face in the morning, remember it is attached to the rest of your body.


It was late at night, and I was tired of being alone in your city so I stole my uncle’s car and set out to find you.
But you don’t even know where I live!
I know what sector, the rest didn’t matter.
You’ll never find me.
I drove around till I did. In just one of the streets, there were armed policemen who wouldn’t let me through.
Policemen remind you of me?
Barriers do.


When I meet you in my dreams, it is a stranger’s face I see,
A stranger’s hands with your thumb nails..
He sits across the glass table, his legs at ease
He doesn’t speak though the darkness between us
And around us, your unnerving stare lights up his pale face,
Your unsmiling smile lurks in the corner of his eyes.
He asks the same questions, how my day has been?
Have I found someone new? Can he touch my hair?
And like with you I fold my carefully designed reasons
Into an origami crane, a paper lily, a cat in the hat,
Kiss your forehead, not his lips, and leave.


Want to know where I live?
Yes, please.
In Y-Block.
Where in Y-block?
You’ll know where as soon as you see my balcony.
Oh come on.
When you’re tired of being alone, steal a car and drive around late one night. When you’re tired of being alone, come find me.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

I must have died alone.. a long, long time ago.

Perhaps the only reason why I have loved him so achingly is because I have hated myself for so long.