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Dear 5-Year-Old Self by Fatheema
Dear 5-year-old self
Be nice to your brother
As he will be loyal to you
More than your father
Do not trust dad when he says
He will be back
The truth is he is gone
And does not care for us at all
Do not drink Coca Cola
When you think no one is watching
The truth is
Mum video taped it
And it’s on the way to Sri Lanka
Do not give up when people say
You can’t sing
The truth is
You have a talent
Do not cry when our goat dies
The truth is
He is in a better place.
Perfect Girl by Ameesha
You stand in the shadows and watch,
as she tosses her long blue-black hair,
her mouth open in a perfect grin, her laughter as
sweet and smooth
as honey. You watch as her friends crowd around her,
giggling, laughing, sharing their news about the new
toy
their mouther bought them. You want to be their, in
that
clique, that little bubble, that world of toys and
happiness.
But you’re not. You’re here, in reality, and you wish
you
weren’t. you have no nice dresses, no new toys, no
designer
bags. You wish you were like them, one of them.
She looks at you then, with her large doe eyes,
and you realise that she isn’t the perfect person
she pretends to be. There are dark circle under her
weary, tired eyes, swollen red cheeks, and under
the new nice scarf her mum bought her last Saturday
you can see the hint of a blue-black bruise. And
you realise, you don’t want to be her after all.
