She's not a gallery piece
meant to be left hanging
like a painting
admired on the wall
revered for its beauty
in lieu of understanding
it at all.
She's not just another objet d'art
in this crowded home of archives
where the myopic patrons
pretend to live more cultured lives
shamelessly gawking
at precious artifacts
kept caged, untouched,
and beautifully staged
behind thick-panelled glass
where we place the highest value
not on present meanings
but more on fractured relics
that existed in the past.
No one ever remembers
what they see
they don’t recall the history
they just like the way
it all seems to shine
and they’re enamoured
by the mystery.
But there’s an admission cost
to walk around this museum
you can't keep a souvenir
unless you visit the mausoleum.
The dead talk but it’s dead talks
because ghosts haven’t much to say
the colour’s lost, the magic’s gone
and the world is turning grey.
Just remember we’re only instruments
meant to bring better things to life
now you’re laying in the morgue
wake up girl, take the knife
perform the post-mortem on yourself
don’t let your precious heart
end up on someone else’s murder shelf.
Decorticate your skin
peel back the the layers
examine the contents found within
don’t let anyone tear you apart
not your brain, not your body
not your words, nor your heart.
Your life is an offbeat melic
that's solely yours to understand
you can sing it anyway you want to
now that the pen is in your hand
this story is yours alone to claim
for you’re a glowing orb of light
floating wildly inside a frame.
You’re not just an ordinary face
crafting anemic designs
in an ordinary space
painting walls in shades
of 'greige’ and vanilla white
for a fickle customer
who says they’d prefer purple
but this is livable
and it won't keep them
up at night.
Remember yourself:
you like unmade beds
and dirty minds
and being naked
with undrawn blinds
you like eager tongues
exploring places
only you can find.
You’re the one who brings fire
you're the one they desire
and you'll write your own epitaph
as if you were Helen of Troy
watching the entire city
burn on her behalf.
Burn it all.