this life

it’s jovial, isn’t it ?

sprouted with his anger, his disbelief, his lack of acceptance

but her

her i relied on. poor timing, Care not-needed for her at that moment perhaps, the Care was needed from me

and her acceptance

i got it then and there

that year or the following one perhaps

and his

it came

first a stream, a trickle of being

then a gushing geyser

it came

he came-

around

but now her

her again

all my reliance

in her, from the beginning

from the stream

depleted

withered

his sprouted anger wasted

for her sprouting sorrow only grew in my-ignorance

oh maybe not ignorance

as so much

a lack of acceptance

that’s irony

for now she cries, she weeps, she mourns

‘that daughter is a son’

and i tell her moreover

i haven’t changed

same personality, same likes and dislikes, same star sign, same ‘humour’

but here comes the lack of acceptance

and so i whisper

into the night

aim at my now grey-walled room

i haven’t changed

but she’s made me doubt it now

i know i have not

but her perspective

change yes

changed.