How can I whistle? My question came.
My brother teaching me, while my father screaming at me.
You are a girl! Girls don’t whistle!
Then my father whistles.
It is unfair or is it just me?
A girl who couldn’t whistle.
It’s the day for a wild whistle competition.
Ignoring anything that’s real
You know there’s a connection
Too busy, insecure of the reflection
The lads would think you’re under whip
Need to inform them if I stay the night
Being honest I can’t say much
Don’t want to be labelled slut
You twirl me through the loop-de-loops
So I can’t catch my breath
And when you freeze us upside down
I’m falling to my death
I never know what’s happening
Until we’re at the end
But when you say it’s over I find
I want to go again
In that smile is the love of God he says
And like a bolt of lightning I jerk up straight.
Shocked to my very core I am sickened.
‘Liar.’ I yearn to scream, ‘it is not as you say.
Behind that smile was abhorrence, fear and loathing.’
You are dead and now you are at peace
But what of me, the daughter you leave behind.
I am your flesh and blood, the one you were to protect
You allowed him, you knew and did but not stop him.
You forgave his exploitations by your omission
And in denial continued to smile at all around you.
Grotesque forms rise to the skies,
Heavens territory is ceded.
The old from consumption dies,
its ancient spirit depleted.