At night my dreamless slumbers converge with the dialogues that were unsaid back then sitting in the secrecy of cavernous and unbidden opinions hurled at my nude body by someone anonymous -- Well, I have their names memorized but memorizing what I want to scratch off the wall of my room is just me Back then when people tickled my cheeks like the tail of a cat with spikes for hair. Like the girl who asked me to man-up cuz I was too feminine , as if femininity was a sin . If it really is , do wear it like a custom-made dress to enjoy your apocalyptic reign in hell Like the boy my age who told me no one my age respected me and succeeded in antagonizing me before everyone Like the traditionalist , i-dont-like-boys-mingling-with-girls principal who questioned my character and humiliated me for who I was , as if the mirrors didn't do it everyday Like the class that made heaven and hell bridgeable
And it's really crazy to think how 2 years back I still kept thinking about what my life could have been had I taken the road I so ardently avoided and how this time in the year I'm regretting the same .
I still remember last year around this time I was leaving my hometown to a city far bigger that tasted like hope of new beginnings , where I believed the edifices would dwarf my grief -- a city where clouds composed and hummed lullabies for its inhabitants to sleep , lullabies that had no hoaxes .
It was a queer ,sultry summer . It is a queer ,sultry summer and I'm returning home that I left last year like a scent flees for a place that deserves it , In the same car , driven by the same tan brown boy , beneath the same sky sitting in the secrecy of the same crestfallen evening . I'm returning to my hometown carrying the rotten vestiges of that hope , that gleamed brighter than the bona fide blood moon last year , in my pocket-- that hope is dead like my will now .
I'm returning to the town that I broke up with hundreds of times only to make up with again then broke up again , knowing we're like a flame and a candle : one can't survive without the other... Like the estranged lovers walking side by side, our stars not aligning .
Sometimes I feel like I'm north and everyone else is south , like this city that smells like me . But we don't repel. In lieu of repelling , we are stuck between repulsion and attraction .
As I'm approaching my hometown , these roads look like a love that I so much like to pretend I'm over but even this car knows I'm not . The winds whoosh past telling me stories about childhood as we reach it , my hometown.
I'm being driven to my hometown, the warmest cottage I've ever known where tiny sparks fly like confetti , where even sparks can set you afire or freeze you , where hell and heaven are conjoined twins.