Fabricated (Spoken Word Poetry)
Fabricated (Spoken Word Poetry)
Would you please handle me with care?
For I am the self-declined art but, am meant to be preserved!
You see, it is not easy for me to carry the shimmers in this unfelt smile
And pass it on to you in full glory!
I have to be precise in my display.
I need to make sure the short-lived connect that we might encounter between my wrapped beauty and your beautiful eyes,
Is tangible enough to please your self-proclaimed intellectual properties.
And if I fail to do so,
I know;
I'd evoke a sense of intolerance within you
Where I would stand still
And you'd come closer and closer to me
With your eyes bulging out with contempt
To unabashedly comment upon my upbringing, my values, and at times even my virginity!
Afraid, I'd gulp down the words fed to you via societal medications
And would tilt my head towards the ground to acknowledge the fact that I shall be cautious from the very second.
"Haha..."
"Welcome to the House of Non-Existence!"
We preserve a culture here and you are bound to respect it
But if you're not aware of the values to be valued
We recommend you to read the rule book deployed at every corner of the room which acts as a guide to UN-EXIST yourself, to UN-LEARN yourself
To honour your body under our jurisdiction
Under the parameters that have been set out by a generation and happily followed by us
Because you see, we don't teach any more, we are just taught!
Taught by the lady, and her ladies, and their men
On how to capture a woman in a minimalist world
And keep her away from anyone's reach
Don't worry; we call it protection.
We are here to protect you!
To protect you in ways that you may never easily approve of
Because we want to...
To rupture your state of mind and flourish it with our principles
Principles that clearly state, "Cage thyself inside a box and never complain about it"
"Isn't it a blessing disguised as a curse?"
I say,"No!"
"It is not!"
Rather it is the curse that you shower in the name of blessing
It is the pain that you make me wear on the top of the clothes that I've come dressed with
On the top of the skin that I choose to be a part of everyone's visibility
Not because I'm a whore, or a cunt, or a sex-addict
But because I take pride in it
In its beauty,
And in the comfort within
In a belief that every other person would look at me in an approximate similar way that I look at myself....
But I am sorry, I was mistaken.
Once upon a time when I was in school I admired a lesson on the inner-beauty
And I remember how you, him, and her appreciated my liking towards it
But how unfortunate it is to know that these are the same bunch of people who mocked me, judged me, and called me names
When I tried to achieve few Cleavage Goals!
And respecting one of the loopholes in our education system that teaches you to respect the elders just because they are THE ELDERS,
I never saw my body wearing that same piece of cloth again
I could not help but disguise my scars beneath sheets and sheets of clothing
With cent percent tolerance and negligible confidence.
I had died everyday.
But let me remind you,
My soul has its limits defined for the suffering it lives by
And when one fine day it would go tired and weary of wearing these false colors
I'll set out the fire for you to take an incessant gaze at me,
And for me to walk upon it, slowly, with grace
So, please do not forget to take a look then!
On how the fabric would burn so quick and these endless pieces of plastic shall melt down in front of your damn eyes.
May be then you'll realize how fabricated I had felt.