fir trees of my years-30.06.15

*artwork- via pintrest.com

e563d08e51ac6640de3bad953507cf9b

 

I’ve gone astray

Amongst the fir trees of my years

Under cold snows

Relived

During sweaty summer evenings.

I’ve failed to tie a string

Or  leave a bread crumbs trail

So I can find my way back

(36 years ago)

When I slipped into this world

And maybe then was happy.

 

Invariably, i am

( a sad little girl- an angsty adolescent-an all accepting woman)

Just looking for a place,

One guarded and secure,

To keep my hopes.

 

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foreigner -30.06.15

7._reflection

*artwork- “reflection” by belle yang via themuseum.org

 

Every time I open my mouth

To let my words out

I witness the strangeness

Staring at me in the eyes of the beholder.

 

Will I ever be a foreigner to all the languages I’ve learnt to love?

 

My elusive place in this universe

Is concealed, hiding behind

The (un)dyeing hope to belong.

 

The walls that I’ve never built,

Neither real nor ones inside

Built themselves anyway and

Even translucent

They separate me from myself

And I can’t reach

The threshold of where I begin

And where the world ends.

 

The lines I’ve written upon the bitterness of my sixteen years

On the blue wall of my youth

Have they come true?

 

Two decades after, now

Am I able to distinguish

Between the secondary and the essence?

 

Am I able?

To take care?

To caress?

To enclose?

To embrace?

To accept

As a fact, as an undisputed given,

Every written mistake

Every word that will ever be left mispronounced?

Everything that I’ve had to forget

And suppress into the deepest

Every hazy image

Nostalgic

Refined

And loathed?

 

I will throw it all up onto the surface

And will investigate, thoroughly

Under magnifying glass

That is molten from chunks of my life

Scattered between here and there.