To all of you who don’t believe in my talents,
(or pretend you don’t)
I have only one thing to say:
Fuck you , fuck you, fuck you , fuck you, oh fuck you!
Oh, how good does it feel!
To allow my tongue to roll through these words like that,
inflating the inflamed chest,
with the salty waves of an unexpected return.
I was a dedicated listener.
I swore and swallowed,
my hands behind my back,
my crown broken
spinning dull between your eager hands.
I repeated, incarnated, spelled and spilled.
I finally spilled the cup,
so full with your vague hopes and shinny insults.
Me your rough diamond, the one you wouldn’t polish,
out of fear or out of wickedness.
So tonight, even if you won’t open your eyes or your ears,
These words of wisdom gushing from my bones,
will find a way to spoon you to sleep,
haunt your certainties and memories,
not out of revenge, but out of hope.
Hope for a new home, a new view.
A renewed certainty that beauty lies within me.
To all of you who touched my body without permission,
I tell you with the joy a child has in its voice, on the first day of summer holidays:
Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You!
Liberation comes with self-belief.
Self-love can be hard to grasp when one is always at fault.
All those small mistakes thrown back at you.
If only you had done things differently, they say.
Surely you had achieved a different outcome.
Funny how fast you go from being a failure to become all powerful and mighty
in these victim blaming narratives.
It was all in your hands, it seems,
however they were the ones who had their hands all over you.
Don’t invite the wolves to your house, if all you want is to play hide and seek.
And i tell you:
Don’t console me with your hands while you condemn me with your tongues.
To all of you, who see beauty and want to tarnish it.
You, who feel so ugly you desire only to destroy and to bend,
You who choose to direct your words in indirect ways.
You who forget humanity is a shared endeavour.