Post-Colonial

by Jess - Cancer

I want to colonise you he said to me.
My body uncharted territory.
I want to colonise you and conquer you.

I woke up next to him in the morning, 
his body curled into the shape of sleep, 
eye balls going mad beneath closed lids. 
I could feel him between my legs, 
felt with clammy hands what he had done to me. 
I wanted to wash but hurt too much, hurt all over. 
My muscles had been pulled by his thin, grabbing hands.

He calls himself an artist.

And I
– well. I am his as he has claimed me. 
– My blue body bruised like a map. I want my mother to come home. My blue blood nobly seeping out.

I went to school that morning and smiled for the world. 
Masking my horror with 
hello and how are you and never help me, 
help me I need your help. 
Empty calls. 
Calling emptily, calling into the big blue nothing 
that was the polluted sky of the strange city which 
worked once 
worked as a machine till there was nothing left anymore, 
all 
gone… 

All gone. 
My mother left because my father colonised me. 

My mother left me because I stole her eyes and 
every time she saw me she saw him looking back…looking back…

Looking back I can see they did me wrong. 
(And I am not alone in that.)

Pressure pounding beneath a baby’s face…
slept like a baby, wrapped myself into the tightest fist and thought…
thought…thought
 that I’d reached the end. 
But then I woke up and the saliva was streaked down my sleep creased face 
and when I looked in the mirror it broke into a million pieces
 and that is how I see this world now, in a million pieces... 
Birth sign: Cancer
Date created: 2001-01-24 11:53:20
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:43:25
Poem ID: 59787

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