You complain about my hair
You make me want to swear
or the chubbiness in my cheeks
which somehow gives you the creeps
Then you go on with my nose
as if that isn’t close
to insulting my appearance
You won’t even waste your chance
After that, the colour of my skin
too dark for you that I need some whitening cream
but I’m not your canvass
God, why won’t you give it a rest?
Next, is my extra fat
which you consider really bad
You act like you’ve earned a PhD
on how to be healthy
They tell me to ignore you
so that’s what I do
but hey, you still carry on
even when I’ve had it; I’m done
Perhaps you think you mean well
but your big, nasty mouth has been my living hell
How do I get you to shut up
without slapping you to stop?
Who are you to judge?
Why do you keep playing God?
Perhaps, I’m not your ideal beauty
but hey, your wicked heart is really, really ugly!
(Jakarta, 26/9/2017 – 6:40 pm)