we have always been experimented on
they experimented on us
and then rolled it out to everyone
we warned you
but you didn’t listen
we were just the beginning
the prototype
they perfected their violence on us
and now it’s reaching everyone
no escaping now
there’s nothing more dangerous and hideous than whiteness
the deciduous conifer
turning colour in autumn
before shedding golden needles
to stitch up the forest floor
ready for winter frosts
half close your eyes
squint and see the erupted tree
become a bird, head down
feathered tail pointing towards the sky
the flat straps
branching out
reaching towards more air
reminds me of antlers
all the women.
in me.
are tired.
Nayyirah Waheed, nejma
you can not say i did not give generously.
you can not say i did not give openly.
you can not say i did not give my truth.
you can not say i did not give my care.
you can not say i did not give my sweetness.
you can say though, i did not take your shit.
you can say i did not take your childish ways.
you can say i did not take your attention or care
and i most definitely did not take you heart.
peony, oxeye daisy, foliage and rose.
i practice their names like i practice how to breathe
without you. i smell you still upon the covers, upon my skin.
citrus, moss and burnt wood. your magic seeped under
my skin into the blood. hypnotising my senses and made
me light, made me forgetful and soft. no regrets.
i only wish, i had kept my eyes open in order to see your guise slip
like a big blousy peony petal to the earth.
let me embrace the orange fish. the orange fish compliments my dress.
compliments my wanting lips and heart, much better, much softer than you.
as i hold my heart in haste and protection, let me embrace something that is willing
more open to my grace than you. i thought i made myself clear, i’m not here to
stare into cold glass eyes, twisted thoughts and warps hands and heart.
let the wind blow through my hair and take all promises of you away too.
the rooms may be empty but this orange fish will make me warmer,
stuck in the dark, you ruminate over what went wrong.
did you give too much in too little time?
did you show your soul too soon, too full?
stop. you will never know his being, his concealment.
his omission. grieve if you must. but it is his loss.
you are still full, still sweet, still in control
of the cake, the knife, your heart.
Living Wild Studios 