Why humanity has become unsightly,
when did people lose their pride?
My front porch remains inviting this time of year, though it is well into autumn the ornamental bench is dry beneath an awning and this is where I perch. It’s nighttime, my time, and the light pollution of the city is on full display. Still eighteen degrees I wrap myself in harem trousers and a fluffy sweater.
It’s about half ten post meridiem, my neighbours lights are mostly out. The front door to the house opposite mine is partially frosted glass, tacky and supposedly modern. It tells me the inhabitants must be watching television in the dark, changing colours but not a sweet, slow shift. More an abrupt series of transitions.
Why people don’t speak up when they feel hurt or angry,
when did they lose their vigour face to face?
Learning the lyrics to a song that once made me cry I am frustrated at the unhinged timing of the track. It makes my bones feel like they could be scraping, but perhaps not. In another dimension these words would lay in a different tune.
Why life skills are not valued,
when did people lose their regard for tradition?
My skin feels lonely though it is routinely cared for, if not for a few depressive blips. Cleansed of makeup, toned and moisturised it yearns for love and not product to hide my ugliness. My hands do their best to treat it but I fear mine own are not enough.
The soft night air feathers its way over my nose, in and out of my mouth like a great snake using me as costume.
Why love is not cherished,
when did humanity lose their loyalty and replace it with the putrid stench of hate?
I hear a door open and close inside the house, a familiar sound but it stirs some resentment inside of me. I wonder what it is like to hear doors open and close in another house. They must not sound fragile and splintery like mine, they must latch closed when ushered, mustn’t they?