Escaping From Ourselves
By Freya Abbas
I want to be with you in a forest,
somewhere with ancient trees,
and a majestic canopy,
the only place where we can be free
I’ll bring my wooden flute there,
weave a crown of flowers for your hair,
listen to your lovely voice,
as it merges with bird song in the air
But you can not see your own beauty,
and I can not even look at myself,
your hatred for yourself goes down to your bones,
my disgust with myself prevents me from getting too close
Even in my forest fantasy,
where I thought we could not be touched by the hand of society,
our love would be thwarted by our own bodies,
not letting us love each other properly
Our dreams will shatter,
the fantasy will falter,
as soon as we see our reflections in the water
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