Whole Holes

Frail

She was born with a carapace

Of faith and fears and fire

Incarcerated in her heart are dreams-

To become a woman, to love

To feel, to grow, and to live

But between those dreams were

Fickle flux which lead to detours

She never wanted and experienced

Her soul ventured along the roads

Filled with deep laughs, erotic stares

The fragile heart started to beat so fast

As if it’s chased by a catastrophe

And it is

They resonated in her mind

Sounds of horrifying expressions

From heartless men who trampled

First, her body

Second, her mind

Third, her heart

Fourth, her soul

Lastly, her everything

Here they come!

The voices of the accomplices

Who put the blame on her

On her clothes, on her dreams, on her body

On her humanness

Oh! What a painful reality she has

They’ve forsaken her for being a woman

An imperfect, flawed, living woman

Faith and fire were gone, she’s with fear

To become a woman, to love

To feel, to grow, and to live?

Foolish choices in a foolish world

Foolish people

Not all holes are meant to be filled

Some holes just need to be respected.

IMG_2907
Taken during an exhibit at the Baguio City Museum

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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3 thoughts on “Whole Holes

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