Saleha Begum

Schizophrenia

Your face amazes me in all its glory
lit up by a backdrop of jazz music,
smooth, flawless, laughing eminently, smiling incessantly.
A tear drop flourishes into the ocean dreams, a city of jewels,
a city of shadows walking in the night,
a city of blank notes rotting in river banks.
You slide, swerve down these familiar cobbled stones,
overlooking the water, overlooking your reflection.
You happily stretch your skin to fit your inconstant form,
fighting within you, your persona sliced.
Your eyes change colour,
you show me one face and hide the other.
I failed to discern you, I looked away.
 
Let us assume this is love!
Bodies huddled up inside a brown paper bag,
but we sold it for a more elaborate one,
bartering our souls in the market game.
 
It’s nothing but a game of egos!
 
I see it magnified now, your true face with all its pores,
in 3D, slim line, high definition, I run,
seeing remnants of you in me.
I’ve given too much, this face I despise, so I take it off and leave it behind
I wear a new one.
 
Are you deceived?

(2012)

(How much of the other person do you become and how much do you leave behind)

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