OUR place
I discovered that dark fire escape because of you. We had nowhere to go in this extremely conservative country where showing affection in public is forbidden. I can't even hold your hand, and you can't even put your hand on my shoulders without people frowning upon us. We are judged because your skin is different from mine, because we speak different languages, because I call Him God and you, Allah.
In the eyes of my countrymen, I'm a slut who sold her soul for money. Yours consider you a sinner who will rot in hell for choosing someone from a different religion. They don't care that what we share is something so pure and honest, they won't admit to themselves that such a thing exists, that two people from different worlds can overcome cultural divide, prejudices, and history.
In that dark staircase we found our sanctuary. Over ciggies, we talked about life, music, movies, books, made plans for the future, exchanged warranties, let our eyes speak of love, laughed over jokes, and smiled through tears. It's where we spent our last hours together, where we said see you soon...I looked through the glass in the door while you saluted like a soldier then rode the lift that took you down and away from me. With silent tears streaming from my face, I smiled and put my hand on the glass while my heart crumbled with the future's uncertainty.
Everyday since then, I've been going to our place to smoke and cry silent tears while making that popping noise with my mouth which never failed to make you laugh. I wake up each morning and go about my life like before, as if nothing happened, and on the surface nothing has changed. If you look closer, you'll see a zombie who lacks a heart because she gave it to a man who, in turn, took it away with him when he went on a long journey.
Soon, I am moving away and our place would be someone else's. Another goodbye, another unavoidable exercise at letting go.
I'll never stop believing...even if they tear down our place. You will never cease to be a part of me, wherever I go, no matter how long we have to be apart. My last, I shall see you again...
In the eyes of my countrymen, I'm a slut who sold her soul for money. Yours consider you a sinner who will rot in hell for choosing someone from a different religion. They don't care that what we share is something so pure and honest, they won't admit to themselves that such a thing exists, that two people from different worlds can overcome cultural divide, prejudices, and history.
In that dark staircase we found our sanctuary. Over ciggies, we talked about life, music, movies, books, made plans for the future, exchanged warranties, let our eyes speak of love, laughed over jokes, and smiled through tears. It's where we spent our last hours together, where we said see you soon...I looked through the glass in the door while you saluted like a soldier then rode the lift that took you down and away from me. With silent tears streaming from my face, I smiled and put my hand on the glass while my heart crumbled with the future's uncertainty.
Everyday since then, I've been going to our place to smoke and cry silent tears while making that popping noise with my mouth which never failed to make you laugh. I wake up each morning and go about my life like before, as if nothing happened, and on the surface nothing has changed. If you look closer, you'll see a zombie who lacks a heart because she gave it to a man who, in turn, took it away with him when he went on a long journey.
Soon, I am moving away and our place would be someone else's. Another goodbye, another unavoidable exercise at letting go.
I'll never stop believing...even if they tear down our place. You will never cease to be a part of me, wherever I go, no matter how long we have to be apart. My last, I shall see you again...
whispered by E-vil at 3:50 AM
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