Who we are

is an endless journey,

With hills and cliffs,

But finding

waterfalls and fields of flowers

along the way.

 

What builds this pilgrimage?

How do you tell the stories?

Describing the vivid colours of flowers

The songs of the bird

The vivid colours of bruises

And the constellation of scars

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everyone is multidimensional

No one is brave,

Nor scared,

It isn’t black and white

it’s queer.

A spectrum, variety, range

 

What should be contradictions

Bonds our DNA

A complex chemical equation

Queer Muslim Dutch Indonesian

And every space in between

Brave, scared,

Loud, shy,

can’t be single

as a polygamous marriage of traits

 

Some dimensions evolve,

others dissolve.

But I am still comprised of them all,

what they once were feeds and what I am now.

 

Inhabiting a grey space of identities

I’ve seen myself as half and half

But my perspectives have changed

I’ve come to understand,

I’m not a construction of fractions

rather; a composition of wholes.

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