10月 09, 2011

Stories & Broken Glass.

I'm Martianese, so does that mean the Martianese men own a part of me? I've been called a witch, a traitor, a mistake. How can I betray somebody I never even met? I fell for a man who happens to be from Pluto and for that, I've been spit on, cursed, and removed from society. My hair is not light like the sun and my eyes are not wide enough to be considered beautiful by men with empty bellies.

So what?

I doze off into a paradise dream and all I bring back is the sand. I have fish lips, bug green eyes, and short stems. I used to wish for my waist to be narrow and my dress would flatter the hole in my heart; my mood is like the waves of the ocean. I tremble when the light gets so bright like the stars that only exist in movies. I rush to capture the spotlight, but my hands are so small and my feet are like "graves in the ground."

I manage to write a message from the bottom and I drink water that is poisoned. Nonbelievers drown in rivers, and I barely hang on to a branch of a tree. I'm cold as snow, but I'll tell you how the skeletons twists and twirl. I'll even show you the mermaids who are now old and wrinkled but I promise you, they still have rhythm! The mermaids play their violins as if it's their primary language. I still have so much to learn from them.

I'm Martianese, so does that mean Martianese men own a part of me? I've been called a witch, a traitor, a mistake. How can I betray somebody I have no connection with? I fell for a man who happens to be from Pluto and for that, I've been spit on, cursed, and removed from society. I get tangled in nets by men who misidentify me as one of the mermaids. I can't say I mind when now all I have left are stories and broken glass.