1/02/2024
2024 feels too futuristic
like its not even real
i feel like i should be
living in a scifi dystopia
YA novel fighting to my death
but im stuck in 2015
eating fruit and reading books
digging in the dirt and
watching TV
where has my youth gone?
how am i here right now?
living and breathing
cooking tofu on a tuesday afternoon
in my lino covered kitchen
fresh out of a year i didn't exist in.
if today's the day
why do i feel like im from the past?
so connected to the past
so enamoured with the past
so indebted to memory.
my forefigures pointing
four fingers up to god.
screaming fuck you big man
through sweat drenched throats and seedy casettes.
screaming up to high heavens in vain of an inglorious bastard
never to be heard by him.
"careful". he said.
my nostrils flared up.
i have always been so careful in my piety.
i am tired of it.
i call it he because only a man could patronise me so much.
"don't say that."
as he watches me drain out into his mouth.
sucking my sweetness dry before it can ever reach my lips.
like a farmer at a beehive;
i am struck for his own gain.
i am tired of having to explain myself.
take it or leave it.
i wait.
"how can such sweet words come from someone so cruel?"
i open my mouth.
wide enough for him to stretch a finger inside.
i wait.
a bait and hook.
margaret atwood once said, "fuck you."
i am sure she meant it.
you have turned into the very thing you claim to despise.
we circle each other.
i wait for you to realise.
back against the wall, i am trapped.
so are you.
i can see the blood dripping out of the corner of your mouth
onto the floor
from where i hit you last.
i am sure some is mine.
i am sure i look the same.
i wait.
pictures!