Stop Faking It!

Stop Faking It!

“Stop faking it”, I bellowed to the girl underneath
“No, I am not, why will I?” she gasped with her moan beneath,
“What do I know why, trying to flatter me I guess?”
I insert out, it had only been in five minutes or less.

Jumped off the bed, with a bed sheet rolled around the torso and body
“The cocoon has only been half unravelled it seems”, at the sight smirked the lady.
Through most of my masks and cloaks her eyes never failed from piercing
She very well knew she wasn’t the one faking.

I rushed out to the kitchen tripping constantly over the nagging bed sheet.
How was it that my eyes never had the courage to confront her orbs and meet?
The magnifying view of her eyes had cornered me in,
Why did she always snatch away from me my beloved curtain?

The “stop faking it” beseech was not meant for the orgasms,
Rather it was a self-reproaching statement just for that organism that was me.
Ostensible is what appears from appearances alone,
She knew ostensibly is the only way I had lived all these years by gone.

P.S. Don’t you need an identity to have an identity crisis?

Slapped Hard

Two pretty and young girls came up and landed
An uncalled slap across my face
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
Heaven has no place for a woman drugged
The words tumbled off from her
Trying to fathom what was being done to me
Trying to decipher what had gotten into her
Could do neither of it in that state of bewilderment she had taken me to
In one cold swipe, she had mocked everything I had stood for
Completely belying what I thought my generation stood for
A bloody and degrading label was readily applied onto all those who she was not
On all those who didn’t eat the way she did,
On all those who didn’t feel the way she did,
On all those who didn’t live the way she did,
On all “those” Muslims
She spat venom injected into her by the world, by the infallible society
Apparently the entire monolith of the community was the devils incarnation
Her words were Amoral and Immoral
Paying scant regard to truth or life, history or facts
She went on as I, non-pulsed, sat there being slapped of my existence
I uttered, “Nah, it ain’t so” trying to break away from an unfamiliar hold
“It is very much so”, she said in defiant voice and tone and flicked her tresses
And returned back to her drugged existence
Seeing through the glasses society had presented her
Breathing the contaminated air institutions were administering
Feeding off the crumbs leaders were serving in dollops
Living the life whose strings were in the hands of…