Thinkle

  Oh hush, don’t read this aloud, it’s a story no one knows She was covering her tan with long sleeves, when he held out a black rose Oh pain, how it shot under her skin, like icicles her broken heart froze Her frail body shivered as she wondered, “was all I deserved a black rose?” She wondered if it’d be any different, if she changed the colour of her hair Would she still get a black rose, if she were a tad bit more fair? Her insecurities convinced her, the flower was some sick joke She should’ve seen the boy’s eyes, at length his nervousness spoke Oh pain, how it shot under his skin, as embarrassment clouded her mind  She walked away, repulsed, totally missing he was colourblind  He knew she loved dark red, the florist heard him wrong   But nothing he could’ve said, would change this sad song For it was never about colour,  neither of her skin nor flower It was her blindness that ruined their ‘could’ve-been’, to the essence of his gestures, that she’d never s...

Avoiding- I’ve mastered that art by now. I can do it with my eyes closed but moreover, I can nail it with my eyes open. I can see things with the empty stare of not having seen them. I can hear words with the sheer surprise of never having heard them, and I can avoid situations like they never presented themselves. It’s as easy as shoving back an unpleasant memory. A dismissing head-shake and it’s gone. That’s all it took until she stood tall in front of me, head up, chin up, looking me in the eye as though challenging me with her daunting gaze.  “Why don’t you love me?”  I immediately break eye contact as if the slightest of eye movement would make her disappear. Unlike all the things I have been avoiding, she doesn’t go away simply after blinking. Her pinning look demands answers and I am nothing if not a questionnaire myself.  I want to ask her why she hates me, why she avoids me, what part of me disgusts her. I have so many questions for her but firstly, does she real...

1. Maybe  I stared at the dead rabbit on my lawn for a bit too long. It had fresh deep cuts shaped by sharp, savage teeth. Blood poured over to the cement floor and reached below my shell-shocked body.  In my reflection in the blood, I could see it again. Unshakable, undeniable, tangible regret looking at me in the eye.  Maybe if I had reached a few minutes early, I would have been able to save a life. Maybe if I hadn’t just spent an hour on the bed, crying, I’d have reached downstairs in time.  Maybe. My life has been a lot about ‘maybe’s lately. Maybe if I visited my mother on her birthday for once, she might think of me as a  lesser awful daughter. Maybe if I left early for work, I wouldn’t break traffic rules. Maybe if I wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong time… It just went on and on.  I cycled through my lawn, making sure I didn’t crush the rabbit. I then went past the neighbourhood, towards the city side.  The sun was like a dab of blush on t...

  2.Did you know? “How did it go?” Cam asked.  “Not an ideal first day of college” “Oh” I gave him a sad smile. He returned it too. In that moment, we said everything without words. Everything about how he was sorry my classmates found out, about how I knew I would never really be accepted in society, about how it felt to be illegitimate. Everything. It’s fascinating just how much a sad smile can hide.  As we were crossing the footpath beside one of those beautiful ponds in the city, he asked me pointing at the water lilies “Lara? Did you know water lilies lasted for only three to five days?”  Cam was sad. I knew it since he would throw random facts my way whenever he was. His way of coping up, I assumed.  “No, I didn’t know that.” ~~~ “Hello?!” yelled the young man in the floral shop in the North-west valley.  He seemed to have been calling my name for a while now but I didn’t realise.  “Yeah, sorry. Can I have a bouquet of blue water lilies please?”...

3.Water lilies It’s 3 a.m. and I’ve given up on trying to sleep. Because everytime I do, I hear my screams. Helpless and hopeless. Desperate cries of help that will always ring in my ears.  The whole night is basically about me shifting sides and my bed creaking beneath me every time I do.  “Cam?” I asked, to the darkness in my room.  “I miss you. I miss how you made me feel like I wasn’t a bad person. Like I had the potential to improve. And that I deserved to be treated better than being tagged as ‘illegitimate’. I miss your smile, your jokes, your presence. Everything you said, everything you didn’t. I miss you everyday, every moment. And above all…I miss us. I miss what we were together. Our talks, our time spent together. Our life after we met each other”  I didn’t hear a response. But I’m not quite sure what else I was expecting.  At around 7 a.m. I got up to leave. As I cycled towards my destination, I recalled every little detail of that day crystal clea...