Creative Writing Literature

as seasons change

written by Iqmal Handan

winter had passed,
spring is still here but summer is approaching and soon to be autumn.
as the seasons change, so do people.
we are never the same person we were last month, last week and yesterday.
we evolve, together with the sun reviving its light upon our beautiful home before the
moon takes supremacy over its dying light and the cycle repeats.

i fear as to what the future holds,
but I am brave to embrace the radiance that this current moment has to offer as the sun
shine its light upon my tanned skin for this life is too short to worry about the unknown
and for I,
do not want to spend my life begging to set the tone of my future where I pray that a
throne will await for my soul.

22 is the age I will turn in June,
But for all my life,
I was told that my femininity is a flaw,
a sin I carry for all the never ending generation of sinners in my family.
I had to go through Hell and back to question if what they say were true.
but just like the seasons,
I evolve, change, love myself as it is the people that change but like my femininity, the
sun and moon remains the same.

as i grow older,
I have allowed myself to see what people call a “curse” a gift,
a product of love and authenticity that will be buried beautifully 6 feet under, glowing
within this body that I finally am able to call my own.
I will never allow myself to live a life driven by men’s fragile masculinity,
a life achieved based on the standard of a patriarchal society that I will ultimately grief.

my femininity has never seen its death.
no matter how hard people try to erase it from me,

they would not have the nerve to face its wrath
that they evoked due to their lack of social awareness and traditionalist views
instilled to them by their parents and society;
where men are not meant to be feminine at all.

excuses after excuses,
justifications will never encourage my forgiveness
for all the hate these people had to give.

they say real men don’t cry,
does that mean my gender is a lie?
they say real men don’t complain,
so am I allowed to drive myself insane by suppressing my feelings and pain?
they say real men are not feminine,
so does my femininity make me less of a gentleman?
they say real men do not express,
but honestly, I do not see the need to put myself in distress.

for that,
i have found contentment in being alone,
a space i allow myself to breathe as deeply as i can to exhale the life that i have lost to all
the hate this world had to give,
and inhale the beautiful energy that i have taken the time to nurture and so i shall claim
this life as mine as long as the seasons witness my growth and endearments,
but just like my femininity,
the sun and moon will beautifully remain the same.

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