What if I am not used to see the love people show me?!
What if It’s me, I don’t know how to read the concern of people reaching out for me,
What if It’s always me not being able to understand their affection for me?!
What if I can not fully comprehend the admiration people have for me?!
For I tend to mistake every genuine interest likely to be that of an opportunist,
For I always wonder why me and why this and that happens,
For I am over consumed with thoughts and debts of thoughts, residues of it lingering to my tongue and wipe it through my finger tips- my sulken eyes,
What if It’s me?! I am singing the wrong lyrics?
Writing the wrong composition?!
What if I am dark, twisted and swayed?
What if I am the detour that I see within people?!
What if I hide the monster that I see awake in people?!
What if I am the giant, destructing everything beautiful?!
Brooding the best? Bringing out the worst in people?!
What if I am the whole problem, not the solution?!
What if my truth does not benefit anyone except it haunts them?!
What if I am a melancholy wrapped in flowers and fragrance?!
And, what if I gain everything to lose them all at once to my doubts?!
Honestly, the warmth of those hugs felt surreally good- but what would happen for once, if I believed your lies to be true?!
What if I am the darkness that tells people to look upon theirs?!
What if I am the chaos that stumbles all the humble people out there?!
What if I am the underworld don destroying the peace of sleeping people?!
I stir storm in them! But, what for?!
What if I only count pure intentions at beginning, but, later no matter what good you bring on table, I turn the table upside down,
The runny sunny side egg yolk is dripping all over the table cloth- oh, I messed up again!
What if It’s me, I can not measure the small efforts you do for me later on?!
What if my silence would work wonders more than my spoken words?
What if I could heal people more with my quiet obedience?
Instead of meeting people with resilience, I could meet them half-way with a glamorous performance!
After all, this world is a humongous stage of performativity and here I come with a bare face!
The more and more I confront you,
I become you!
A synthetic version of you- hardly to be distinguished from you!
What’s next?! What’s the alternative?!
You keep looking next alternatives until you reach a saturation,
No options left, you are left with you- only to chose yourself in each circumstances!
No alternatives suit your taste, or pallets!
So painfully singular you remain!
A heartthrob mystic with unique eloquence only to fall for horns of devils!
Defeating the evils in them and absorbing the evil,
Becoming the horn yourself to honk the devil-
You become the messiah version of the evil!
And then, you ask me, what are you?!
I am what you think of me!
I am what you see, and made me do!
©® Farheen Bhuiyan Nancy
Time Frame: 5 am, Mirpur Cantonment.