There are many children who face the anguish of repression in childhood. Repression that damages them to some extent permanently. The problem seems to exist in Pakistan deeper than most countries. Perhaps this is how such a child thinks?
I sit here hurt, anguished and spent. Sometimes I just wish I had different parents. What’s
the point of being so knowledgable if you cannot keep ur child happy? My parents, drowned in fake pools of masochism. Unrelenting, spiteful and desperate to be in contol.
Hard to say. I am trapped in this circle of forced love, forced respect and forced obedience. Sick of trying to get them to understand who I am. I am rebellious. I am outspoken about my beleifs and ideas. What’s wrong with that?
All I wanted was a fair system. Isnt justice my right? Is it so big a crime that everytime I stand up, I’m struck on the head, and reminded that I feed off HIS balls?
What about values? Integrity? Do I have to kiss upto them for even that basic right? Does exercising your authority makes a man out of someone?
The saddest truth is – I dont respect them. And it will be a cold day in hell when I accept that I never wanted to. I did. So badly. They just never stopped the mental assault. Always the pure Islamic mind. Child MUST obey. Child MUST give in. They are indestructible, impregnable. Never wrong. Always the light of wisdom. We, are vermin. Born to have sand kicked in our face. As unimportant as bits of meat stuck in the teeth. As pale an existence as that of a phantom.
Ur sumwhere behind me, leering all the time
And I search for you, I find you nowhere
I cut my skin, to catch ur reflection
on the white blood that flows
Cuz I hate to see you grinning
Caught in the frenzy of this,
This eye-less hurricane
Tossing n bossing me, dizzying my senses
You bring me into a dark tunnel
And you hit me everywhere, you ooze out my brain
Break my balls feeding em to the dogs
And you burn out my intestines
The garbage trucks carry me away – they recycle
And I come again at you, a plastic limb
I see houses full of whores and bloody pimps
It’s time when the surge raises its ugly head
Frothing up steam – I hiss and spat at you
I hit back at you, striking my blows with multiple magnitudes
And I fuck you there and then, my resolution breaks
You scream but I give shit, I rip you apart
I eat your flesh to mix it with mine
And I become you, your face, your body to cross the line
This time, I cackle, cuz I live your life through MINE !