Sometimes we make it sweet for our mind
This unnatural fascination with being broken
Dreaming of sirens and wood nymphs
With glorious scales and wings of green and blue, the colours merky with tales of how we truly feel.
Beauty no man can help but touch; no man can resist or unwatch
But where is the truth when we lay down to cry?
When we cry for all those nights we felt vilified and denied
The rights of our bodies, they never seem to be our own
So we ascbribe the violations we feel to aethetics compliments that can only cover our scars but can never rid us of our pain
Hiding in plain sight.
No nymph no Osun.
Just the memories of our shame drowning us below our waters, which we were told was beautiful
Our beauty will soon kill us
Like poison ivy ingested in the brain
Our mind becomes strewn poisonous flowers, trees that have no roots but enough dead leaves to drown out the light
At some point
When we truly fall asleep, away from our life of gimmicks
The water, the trees
They take over and drown out all that we can see; blinding us from false ecstasy.