Here by Laila Wael

Posted on February 7, 2014 by

0


When you are seventeen,

And your voice is louder than your gender’s title,

You realize that the mistakes your mother buried in her womb,

For years before the idea of your creation, was drawn in her brain,

Maybe you are one of them,

That she slept away, without realizing it.

 

When you are seventeen,

and you came to know that your name bares more issues,

than your father’s career,

and the curves of your hips, scream cases of forgetful

Uninvestigated series of questions,

that no one dared to ask.

We can share the same pillow,

And I can be called a Madam,

when I am just nineteen,

It’s not like I need someone filled with

Smoke and all his parents’ unvoiced apologies

In him, to tell me what is like to fall in love.

 

When you are seventeen,

And you need to know that your future,

Doesn’t really lay open in your hands,

Neither is it your decisions of choosing the right options,

The higher superior force that shall not be spoken of,

Symbolized by all the male figures who jeopardize every peaceful wave of scented flow.

But let’s not spoil all this fun of being seventeen,

Let’s talk about, how badly you crave things,

Or haw badly your skin itches for sun, that you aren’t allowed to feel undisclosed,

No wait, let’s not talk about that either,

Let’s talk about something imaginary, contrary to the entire real world you live in,

The land of great queens, and unmistakable magical spells,

That lay on the verge of you breaking down at 4 am and curling your toe fingers cause the warmth is yet to come.

Or when you realize, even when you are one of god’s storms on this land of his,

You are beaming happy. And there is nothing in his hell that can stir this feeling.

Because you finally came to realize that you aren’t a tree, and your seeds have been thrown in someone else’s flesh,

You are flourishing, and even if it’s not your season,

Your address is yet another moving universe waiting for your own discoveries, and the act of abolishing your fierce defensive behavior

The world is your motherland, and his skin is your home.

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