(not about the spike jonze film.)
You were the one who told me that we were the fighting kind.
You were the one who urged me to never back down.
You were the one who told me the women in our family are strong.
Whatever happened to that lady, now afraid to leave a life of comfort and monotony for a life of freedom?
Whatever happened to the woman who is now afraid to question, to go against, to stand up for what she believes beyond of what happens within the four walls of this house?
Who now believes that none of us can truly be equal?
Who now wants me to "accept" everything that is given me without so much as a sound?
You who stuffed my bones with bravery so they wouldn't buckle when someone tries to break them.
You were the one who drained my body of cowardice so I would never have to feel it again.
You were the one who lit my veins up with the fire of the fight.
What happened to you?
You were so full of feist, and now still need the reassurance of witnessing in order to wake up and smell the smoke. The fire is all around you; it crackles at your feet and in the black of your eyes (so dark, so burned) that I cannot do anything to stop it.
But the only person who cannot feel it is you.
I want to shake you, I want to light you up.
I want to give you a piece of my mind.
I want to scream at you so that your ears would light up like a fuse
To rattle the bones made brittle by years of labor done for love.
Sometimes the way you snap back makes me think the spark has found its way
But sometimes the way they ravage my insides with the flame makes me feel other than what I want to feel
Still, I keep on
Wishing that maybe every word I let go becomes kindling
And you burn on
Greedy and hot and ruthless
And I catch fire
And it surges in my nerves
Careless and hungry and bright
And so we battle on that way
Because the best way to fight a fire
Is to light a fire.
