what are you?

the colour of your skin

or the weight you hold in your body

the length of your hair

and maybe the width

or the clothes you

don’t wear

and the shoes

you can’t be, just that

what are you?

the colour of your eyes

or the teeth

maybe

skin bare (ing) make up

or the nails

what are you?

surely not the books you read

the knowledge you hold

nor the smile

behind the dull color of your eyes

maybe you are the vacant chair

they think so too

dumping

what are you?

reduced

only to what they see

or in between

around

everything abstract

about you

like the anger

and the suffocation

at the injustices

revolting against

any sign of authority

maybe you overreact

but who cares

what they think

hold on

to the parts they don’t see

can’t see

time passes

and space changes

don’t lose the parts

they can’t see

or won’t

embrace the vacant chair

make it yours

as you

wait

watch

you are

the forbidden fruit