Mist

I’m on the bus now wondering to myself who I could call if I have an emotional breakdown this very moment

One name comes to mind, but I don’t know what to say

I don’t know if she shall deal with my fragile state with the same amount of care i would hers or anybody else’s

I know that she wouldn’t know what words to say, when to say them and thus I shall have to do the bandaging myself, only to have her watching at the corner

Why is it that I see and handle pain better than the people I call friends?

I hate being vulnerable, I know that very well,
and maybe it is cause I have learnt that when you put expectations on people, they always disappoint,
so I have learnt to compress my emotions like recycled can drinks before they become new soft drinks

And I know very well, that I have been lucky that there hasn’t been a volcano eruption right deep in my being, however my luck is running out

I begin to see it crystal clear, I have allowed people to treat me as their emotional garbage

Always there to hear their problems, to sit with them to find solutions, yet always tossed to the side when life is going great for them

And my ice cube justification that it is better me than people who shall hurt them is slowly but surely turning into mist

Every point in my life, I relearned the lesson, you only have yourself at the end of the day

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7:35 am

Today I woke up with my heart heavy,
with my chest tight,
and my eyes dry

Today I woke up and wanted to lie back down,
where I disappeared for hours at end,
and not deal with the world

Today I woke up and found out once again that I stick out like a sore thumb in this world;
not quite at each end of the spectrum of fun,
and thus right smack in the middle of lame

Today I woke up and hated how I spent other days when I could breathe in fresh air;
kept myself hidden in a box,
instead of floating on the clouds

Today I woke up and thought about self-worth and self-love,
and wondered if they were the same,
if they were reminders that you have no guide but yourself to help you see when the world turns dark

Bear

Last week, my family and I went to an ocean park. We didn’t know what to expect because we went with a tour group and it was frequently referred to as a water park. In hindsight, if we knew what was in store, we wouldn’t have gone.

Over time, I have come to have a strong opposition against circuses (although I have never been to one) because I believe it is cruel to force animals to act against nature. This opposition is rapidly extending to zoos and ‘ocean parks’. The animals are in small enclosures, much smaller than that of where they would be in the wild. This results in the animals being very stressed and thus affecting their health. In addition, they mostly look very sad. 

Hence, this poem in hopes of starting a conversation on this issue. I would love to hear your stand.  

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              A bear in the Ocean Park                           credit: Ayodele-Oja    

I am a grizzly bear.

A dark-brown usually 180kg salmon eating beast.

Yet, here I am

In this small place where the hundreds of kilometres

I walk is now back and forth in a small enclosure.

I myself aren’t surprised that my skin is slowly drooping.

It’s the same way I am losing my gusto.

The 3 inches long claws I have are being put to waste

As I am fed sweet potatoes by tourists whose targets aren’t accurate enough to reach me.

In addition, the 3 metres I can stand to is now simply a tourist attraction.

I am not sure where I came from,

But I am sure I cannot go back to the wild.

Still, this pain, this suffering, for the entertainment of others, is not what I deserve.

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Bear enclosure in the Ocean Park                                    credit: Ayodele-Oja 

So, do you agree or disagree with my opposition against ocean parks? Why and why not? Do leave comments!