Sometimes I ask myself,
“Who do you want to be?”
I don’t know the answer.
But four of the girls
who used to be dressed in glamorous, pink evening gowns
say they do.
I don’t believe them.
I know that they just go on, pretending to know it,
making-believe that they are not lost like me.
They are just like the five-year-old grown-up children
who make believe that they are kings and queens or mothers and fathers.
They know it all but dare not let it show.
Sometimes I ask myself,
“Where is the key to happiness?”
I don’t know the answer
so I ask those tiny grown-ups, those children, thinking they would know.
“Find true love and you’ll be happy”
They go on:
“The key is right there in you,
in that little love-box you have in your chest.”
They never mention how to “find true love”, or that “special key” though.
So I stop asking them questions because,
I don’t understand what they mean.
Neither do I care.
After all, who knows how they actually feel?
They used to be Romeo and Juliet,
until they died together with their “love”.
Later they became Zeus’s wife
and started bossing around the other gods.
Some day, they’ll make their way to Hollywood, acting.
They are professionals in that area.
Life is a game for them, and I’m a part of that game.
That is why I begged those spoilt children for their mercy.
But they didn’t care.
They just broke me and bought a new doll.
-summer 1998 (Andover)
