I'm pretty over being told to put my hands up in the air...
Brandon O'Brien is a writer and poet from Trinidad. This is his other brain.
Caution: May contain intense critical analysis, long rants, and uncomfortable (but necessary) subject matter.
I’ve been hating you real easy lately;
your voice still lingers in my dreams sometimes
and I can see the indentations your shadow makes
on mall food court chairs to make me sick.
Every day is another random memento
fit for the flames of Gehenna, and I don’t
know if I revel or revere finding those cursed things
yet. I grow fond of dancing to forget,
and I found a whole new me you’ll never get to
love or loathe or tear apart
in my waist, I love that part most of all,
that this is not something you have scarred
or scared off. I hate the you that took the rest,
and the you that pretends that they weren’t gone;
I hate the you that drove fists in me
and answered me in screams;
I hate the you that put my passions in the sea
and said saving them from drowning meant deserting you.
I hate most of all the you
that made me wait so long to see the me I could have loved
all this time instead. I hate the you that wouldn’t leave my head.
All the keys you bought to break into me are melted down
into an effigy around my neck
and I will wear that one til I fall down.
I’ll dance on the loose pages of
all the doubts I had to lay in bed beside, I’ll sing salacious
strength in their ears til they scream to you that I’ve been cruel
to them. I’ll love better than your fists can bruise,
and I’ll make you watch. This is how badly I hate you.
Maybe one day I won’t. I am really hoping one day I stop.
But hating you has come far too simply as of late.
Kamen Rider Life Advice:
Be fearless like Kouta
Be supportive like Haruto
Be friendly like Gentarou
Be humble like Eiji
Be united like Shoutarou and Philip
Don’t be like Tsukasa
Wish upon a star.
Rude, Sarah Sultan. Rude.
You know what I probably should do?
A few of the illustrations I have produced for New Scientist magazine over the last year or two.