I stand in the shadow of the great palms of the red tiles that grow out of its soul I stand watching the world go cold.
The broad roads of this city made of dust, the river made out the minds, out of dreams – this is my home, till I learn to break away from its spell.
My tongue feels heavy with the growing names I am supposed to learn, with all the things I must not be to be loved by them. I am almost expecting new things. “this is a good time to run away”, says my ghost-from-the-city-of-sea.
My ghost-from-the-mountains-green laughs at how desperately I want to be understood, to be seen and yet how furiously I try to erase everything of myself.
Everything in me seems to be made to be hidden. I hide my trembling fingers. I hide my desperation and the mess it leaves in its wake. I prepare myself for another show. The show of trying. My trying is so beautiful in how it is always hoping to be disappointed.
I wait under the neon signs of misspelled words and think about the storm that will never arrive. I wait with hope. I wait with arms fed up of trying.
Once she had a bite of my fate she became a restless ghost. She looked like all my ugly wishes staring back at me but she had a beautiful smile so it was more bearable to my eyes than to wear my own desperate words on my unsightly lips. She looked out of place, but in a good way as if she was the invitation to some place where my light won’t die. Even in her voice it was my own words that asked me to leave, that told me to love for the last time. As my shrieks danced in the empty corridors she planted a seed of eucalyptus in my palm, she covered my hand with hers, and covered our hands in dirt. She told me how, for years, only the smell of eucalyptus could calm her mind, it made her believe that there was a gentle cure to every disease that hurt her heart. As she spoke such words that were not extraordinarily sad I felt my spine become soft. I dreamt of her leaning against my back relieved of her every pain and maybe it was the only beautiful wish that has ever been born from my heart. Once I touched the shadow of her heart I grew and bloomed and learnt to be the one who waits, heals, loves, and breaks without bounds.
i try to sleep, to forget the pain near my spine, to forget all the hours in front of me that i have no use of. i look at my palm from near and from as far as my hands can extend. i notice how my hands have changed. do i like it better now? i wonder if it possible to like anything about my body now. i remember once deciding not to at least hate this skin that has use for everyone but not to me. i remember saying “as long as it makes you happy” at the same time thinking “i don’t think you care for my happiness”. i stop myself from finding more things that make me confused or miserable. i unlock my phone. it’s 8 already- more and more notifications, …5GB extra..Alert:You have spent… …has added a new post…added a new story airplane mode, the notifications continue to pile up in my head- all the words that i will never get to see that i always expected even when i knew i shouldn’t, it has been long……sorry, for making you feel alone… today i saw something and was reminded of you. even though we are not together, it is not your fault… thank you for being there for me……it must have been tough… don’t hurt yourself i feel smaller knowing that even the words i want are only words of consolation, just confirmation that i am not the worst. i look at my hands again and wonder if my hatred for myself colors my skin. is that how everyone gets know that i don’t have the courage to ask for fair, for loyalty, for answers? is that how i look? someone who doesn’t have the voice to ask anything anymore.