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Princess
Dancing with curtains
Child me
Saw black eyes
Smelt loneliness
Yet hark, royal bells.
My eyes halt
On pillars
Creators
Of me, their pride
Their name.
Might they be forlorn
In gold ring rusted
Or have they wedded lonesome?
Might mother have drowned
In plastic promises
Or did she submit to ransom?
Might father have dabbled
In radiant young passion
Or was he fearful of mayhem?
I do not know
But I do know
I won't drink
Sugar poison
I won't wear
Rings gold
I
Shan't
Dance with the white curtains.
Bring me my black wings.
©Rachel Tan, 3 December 2018.
Insta: @singingstories35
https://www.instagram.com/singingstories35/
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The Skirt
Dancing among flowers
I stoop to touch the mud
To taste its divine.
Blossoms flirt, smile unseen
Choking on thorns each
Jostle, bustle, hustle, rustle.
Such cataracts my eyes
My tired mind.
Pity.
I bow and pet them blooms
Politely faraway
Telling lies white
Fake smiles all.
Finally, at last
I settle down on swamp.
Proudly hideous
Undercover beautiful.
I ask of its thinkings
It sings my song
We create new stories.
Much we've discovered
Yet there's still more.
Much we've seen
And so we soar.
Much we've tried
But the world's all gore.
I thank it for its beauty.
I leave.
I do not wipe my bottom.
The mud runs down my trousers,
Forming a brown skirt of awareness and wonder.
©Rachel Tan, 20 Nov 2018.
Insta: @singingstories35
https://www.instagram.com/singingstories35/
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In Charge
Roaring drums screaming cymbals
Clutter my head like homework.
A maze parades a haze frustrates
My game of hide and seek.
Retreat into a ball of ice
And I am left forlorn.
I shut my eyes.
I see father,
On pointless race of life
Like me.
Life giggles
I only watch.
Dad stumbles
I only watch.
Suddenly, I wake up
Legs flying'ward convulsing life
Now, I'm in charge!
But his scorn blocks my path
Desert plains increasing
Despite eyes unseeing.
Ever further is.
I do not reach
I miss.
Years later
My left cackles darkness
Right sweet, poisoned beginning.
Straddling forbidden boundary
Relishing
In crystal clarity
It is time
Choice is mine
Now, I'm in charge!
My fate lay
In my shaking, joyful palms
But someone
Ripped it from my arms
As policemen came running.
Dad's ghost
Looked stunning.
Said:
"Now, I am in charge."
©Rachel Tan, 30 Nov 2018.
Insta: @singingstories35
https://www.instagram.com/singingstories35/
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