Like Tasting Defeat for Dessert

Like Tasting Defeat for Dessert

by Nabilla Utami

So you say life’s a drag but you've only been living a few seconds outside of your mother’s warmth. You haven’t taste the slightest bitterness of “life” I presume? And yet here you are complaining as if you were going to explode in mere seconds and your head would be a fine piece of art, hanging on top of my bookshelf. And your tangerine skin turned pale red, as if there was such a color as pale red. Your screeching voice, echoed through the hollow halls of this deserted asylum and your cries, desperately trying to fight its way out.

I know this is not the dream but it’s not too bad once you get used to it. The painful needle would only sting once and that… won’t probably be enough. Once you’re here, you would kill for freedom. And I might as well tell you, freedom feels like a heavy bag of all your sins.

It is now time for them to hold you down with that big belt that’s probably never been washed since the last time a person has spilled his darkest secret, and his internal organs. You keep on shouting, and helplessly throwing kicks into mid-air, thinking it will free you somehow. But it just won’t work. Shouts of mercy comes flying from your mouth as they try to shove “the system” down your throat.

Its noon and the pain is now unspeakable. Tears crawl slowly from those emerald eyes of yours, as if they’re trying not to wake you up. But you’re not going to wake up.

You’re not.

You lay there, tired.

Tired of carrying all these things you've been keeping to yourself.

All these things you could never share to anyone else, because they just wouldn't understand.

You carefully peek through your now-soggy eyes, trying hard not to make a sound.

Your hands shiver while you grab the mug that’s been sitting a while beside your bed.

You take a sip, and finally tasted defeat.