They want me not to shed tears and have fears 'cause they do believe shedding tears and having fears are an epitome of a coward. Tears are needed to lessen the burden of our heart and we must have fears, so we can overcome them. To learn from our fears is far better than not to have them.
They want me not to speak frankly, to be in my 'limits', it's what they say. It differs that 'limits' here means not to represent my part, to shut my mouth even on wrong doings. "To see evil be done is a more sinful act than to do evil." To not speak for right is what cowards do.
They want me to be as beautiful as a flower and as tender as its petals, no matter what the circumstances are. They forget about the thorns. Why don't they understand that the outer ugliness isn't ugly, it's the appearance of the soul which matters. And sometimes being tough is what we need, "NO" is what is required instead of tenderness and a deadly "YES".
They want me to have a calloused heart. For they do believe, it's how we succeed. Leaving everyone, breaking every bond, it's not the way how humans survive.
But they want me to be any one of these, either a warrior or a coward , either a flower or a thorn.
Why are they placing me in one more division? This world is already full of social divisions, not one more.
Why don't they leave me just a Homo sapien? A Home sapien who knows how to shed tears and shred fears. A Homo sapien who embraces tenderness and callousness at the same time. Isn't it enough that I'm a Homo sapien or my complexion too matters?
I'm a warrior who has learnt from Her fears by overcoming them, Fears that a coward has. I'm a rose adorning those thorns. And my complexion is grey.
In the end When we did kiss It was with a Thrilling kind of Carelessness, like Lovers who had Never quite been Able to stitch Our broken hearts Abandonment had found A home in our souls And now, no matter How much we tried To kick it out It always found its Way back into our Murder stained hair.
At night, we lie down On opposite sides of The bed, and wait For the other To fall asleep Before popping ibuprofen Pills like candy Wondering what it Feels like to fall asleep While the night has Not yet clutched us In its death grip We are insomniacs With different eyes But the same nightmares.
When the morning comes We stay away From each other Like alter egos With loaded guns Never quite knowing When we will Run out of armor We made an art Of leaving our Sins at the altar And they couldn't Make us walk The straight roads By invoking Jesus For our confessions Reeked of lies and deceit.
"And how do you think will I ever make sense?" Feliz asked. "What will you do if you don't? It is already a mess. What are you waiting for? To watch it turn into a destruction?" Xavier replied annoyed. Feliz's eyes blurred. She turned to the window. 'Don't shake, eyes won't define you, don't let anyone know when you are vulnerable, you always end up doing something you regret in morning. Make it past this moment, like always.' She kept telling herself. She flinched when Xavier's hand softly touched her shoulder. His eyes hid emotions so well, a trait Feliz always envied. "You pushed it to the end, you have to face it now. It is not worth dying for." Xavier said in a plain voice, hiding any speck of emotion. "I don't know how to, I don't know what to do. I don't know what is wrong, I'll never be able to speak it out." Feliz tried hard to straighten her shaky voice. "But the thing is, they are YOUR emotions. You need to take a trip inside and figure it out on your own. Suffering isn't cake, you can't share it." Xavier replied in a clipped tone, voice threatening to turn uneven. Feliz gazed out the window, at the blushing twilight.
-Wired, Weirdly / A book if I ever wrote one.
If you want to read more extracts from Wired, Weirdly : #xavfeliz