By: Natasha Karenina Wijaya
I put my eyesight on the table
trusting life’s cane to pull me forward
yet all I get are bruised knees and broken skin
as it hooks to trip me at every corner
So I take back my eyesight and replace it
with a set of cut off ears
though their glares and their stares keep me paranoid
of the things I can’t hear them say
I come back and trade my legs
relying on chivalry to help me with my path
but after rejection comes rejection
and soon I find myself in a dim lit corner screaming hate
Crawling back to the table
I have nothing valuable left to give
Would you rather my mouth that gives no voice
or my burnt-out lungs no less polluted than a running factory?
Now I stand before the table, gladly holding
my beat-up heart in my hands
Desperate to make this final trade to escape
the harsh disillusionment we call this world
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