Authentic

her laughter is loud, almost indecent
she spits joy on a forlorn world
mercilessly
thoughtlessly
she who has never felt
moistness in her eyes
or is it what I imagine about her?
How can she ever wipe a tear?

not that tears define my existence
far from it. I’m stoic and distant
called inert sometimes
for senseless acts of loyalty
glorification of half-hearted sacrifice
fails to move me

Me- who believes in authenticity
spends a lifetime
discovering, redefining
restructuring a conflicted self
then realizes
that this is how I’ve always been
and will continue to be so
all re-engineering in vain

but the cacophonous laughter
makes me uncomfortable
perhaps a carefree existence
stirs deep-rooted desires
of flying free
of being me…

---

Written for dVerse Poetics hosted by Sanaa Rizvi – Allen Ginsberg and the Beat Generation

Advertisement