Saturday, June 18, 2016

Things My Dad Taught Me

Things My Dad Taught Me.



My dad taught me 
Pokemon is awesome
Even if you like Barbie
There isn't always a need to be "girly"

My dad taught me 
To appreciate the moon 
Even when it's no longer sunny 
For the world is dark without positivity

My dad taught me 
How to speak up
Without being cocky
That mistakes are to be followed with a sorry

My dad taught me 
That times are tough
And jobs don't come easy
So always keep an eye out for opportunity

My dad taught me
Failure is inevitable
Tons have faced it
So has he
We will make bad decisions
Some things happen uncontrollably
But what you make of life
Is the determinant of "happy"

My dad taught me 
That being poor
Was not about money
It was about mentality
So do what you love 
And let it set you free

My dad taught me 
To love 
When things are the toughest
To love
When life is absolutely shitty
To love, always,
Unconditionally.

Happy Father's Day Daddy. 
(PS: No your name is not kawaii)


Sunday, December 27, 2015

Cigarette Smoke

Cigarette Smoke


Picture credits: All-pix.com


It was simple what we were.
At the same time
it was
complicated.

A stick of cigarette

A white paper cylinder
Sitting
right
between
your lips

So simple.

At the same time
So complicated.

Each exhale you gave

Was an inhale I took

A puff of smoke

in the sky
For a second
It looked almost
magical
But only for a second did it last
Only for a second
Did we last

Because just like the smoke

You were fleeting
This was not the place for you

And just like smoke to me

I found it hard to breathe
Eyes tearing up
This was not something for me

Smoking.

Your only bad habit
You would say
Bad habits come easy
But go hard
Very hard.

Friday, October 2, 2015

Isaac

Isaac
A three part poem series

But, Really. 
It wasn't picture perfect
Truly not something I'd expect
But it was remarkable
Undeniably, the night was magical.


Lead.
The hint of bitter smoke lingers
Something I didn't want but now needed
The trail of tender fingers
It all started with a "just follow my lead".


Like Gum.
I'm worried to start with a "hey"
In fear you'd leave me
Just to throw me away
Like gum you wrapped tightly.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Jake vs. The Witch


I ran as fast as I could and behind me, I could hear the creatures, whimpering, snarling and panting. As I scrambled up the slope to the house, I glanced over my shoulder and saw The Witch towering over me. My feet froze. I gulped as lighting flashed brightly sourcing light onto her warty and ugly face. Her eyes shone bright red right at me, as she wrapped her cold bony hands around my throat. My feet were no longer on the ground and I could feel the air slowly draining from my lungs. Beneath me, the creatures were awaiting their dinner.

With every remaining morsel of my soul, the words “Please stop… I’ll help you…” escaped my throat. The Witch, her eyes still pinned to mine, threw her head back and cackled loudly. She smirked at me and released her grip on my throat.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” I shut my eyes and screamed as I descended to my untimely death.

            My eyes still shut, I waited and waited for the pain to come, for the teeth to sink in, for my bones to be crushed but there was nothing. I opened my eyes and the next thing I knew, I was in my bed sweating and panting as if I had just completed a marathon.

            BANG! The door opened swiftly. I braced myself for the worst.
           
“Jake, what’s the matter? Is everything all right?” questioned my mother anxiously.
           
Oh, it was just Mom. I exhaled in relief. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. It was just a nightmare.” I assured my mother. We said our goodnights and she went back to bed. I was safe, this time. However, it was only a matter of time before The Witch came back to get me. Now, I knew that I had to take matters into my own hands.

            During my walk to school, I passed The Witch’s house. It was an old rotting house and all her windows were barred and covered with black cloth. On the porch, her black humongous guard dogs slept through the day. A chill ran down my spine and goosebumps formed on my arms. The crystal clear image of my first encounter with The Witch clouded my mind. It was exactly on the night of All Hallows’ Eve, a clique of girls from my school were standing across the house giggling and pushing each other to enter the house. Amongst the girls were Lydia, the girl of my dreams since sixth grade and her big and burly boyfriend of two months - Brendan Philips.

            “Don’t be a wimp Brad, just get in!” teased Lydia as she motioned Brendan towards the rusted gate. At that moment, I had been walking home with a small bag of goodies after a short trick-or-treat session. I was dressed as Ash Ketchum – the main character from my favourite game, the Pokemon series when Lydia and her friends spotted me.

            “I bet Jake would enter Weird Old Cathy’s place.” Lydia stated in a-matter-of-fact facade.

            Moments later, ironically, I found myself standing right in front of the corroded gate. Across the street, Lydia blew a kiss at me. In my bravado spur of the moment, I jumped the fence and trampled over a few dried up plants and scurried up the porch. The lucky stars were on my side that night as the hounds were nowhere to be found. My veins were filled with adrenaline and my heart was beating fast, sweat trickled down my brow as I made a mad dash for the door. Inside the house, it was dark in what I could make out as the hallway except for one dim source of light from the end of the corridor. The place was covered in dust and cobwebs and a strange musk filled the air.

            I moved slowly and steadily but it was as if every movement made was watched and every creak the floor made was amplified. “Jake, you really are a gem. Look what you have gotten yourself into!” I conversed mentally. Creak. Creak. Creak. Went the floors. To my demise, my feet weren’t moving – I was standing as still as a statue in the tiny room. My eyes travelled across the place trying to find the source of the noise. Silence. Maybe it was just a draft…

            BAM! The door behind me slammed shut. I turned around only to be struck on the head by something hard. After that, everything went dark. Moments later, I regained consciousness and tasted blood on my lips. Everything was blurry and all I could make out was the sound of an old lady singing and the clink and clank of metal against metal. I brought my hand forward to wipe my lip only to find that they were tied behind my back. When my vision restored, a tall elderly woman with long white frizzy hair and dressed in black approached me.

“Hello dearie, I’ve been waiting for you,” she said with a smile across her face showcasing her rotting teeth. Subtly, I reached for my penknife I always keep in my back pocket just in case of anything like this happened and began to saw the rope behind my back.
           
“Listen child, I want nothing more from you except your help.” She replied as her big veiny eyes travelled across my face. When I didn’t respond, she continued almost humming the words, “Bring me 5 drops of blood and a lock of hair from your first love. You have 3 weeks to think about it. If you deny my offer, I will hunt you down and behead you. Now, would you like some homemade broth? It’s very delicious!” The Witch then headed towards her boiling pot of soup.

“I’m sorry lady, I am afraid I’ll have to decline,” I said. My wrists were cut loose, I stood up, charged towards the old lady and pushed her into the boiling pot of liquid. Her head dipped into the burning hot mixture and it spilt all over her. She shrieked in agony but I didn’t bother looking back as I ran for my life. I collapsed to the ground gasping for breath when I had successfully exited the place.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket causing me to leap up and squeal like a little girl getting tickled – bringing me back to reality. On my phone was a text message from an unknown number. I opened it immediately, curious to know what the message contained - maybe it was from Lydia. Maybe my courageous act during Halloween showed her that I’m more than meets the eye. I clicked the button. The message read – “I’m waiting…”.

Confused, I looked up from my phone only to find The Witch staring at me from her windowsill. I took off sprinting like the Olympic gold medalist Usain Bolt, back to my house and entered the garden shack. Swiftly, I pulled down the secret latch connected to a small wooden compartment in the roof of the tiny shack. I coughed as the dust flew into my nostrils and contaminated my lungs. Behind the compartment, sat a thick and dusty leather bound journal. The engraved leather spelt the words:


LIBRI Lucis

h.l anne


The journal belonged to my great grandmother, I had found it a few years back. Both my parents agreed to be rid of this in fear it might bring adversity to the family. They threw it into the flame of my fireplace and there the journal burned to ashes. When I checked on the fireplace a couple of hours later to clear the ash, there sat – as if untouched and unaltered, the journal. So, I adopted the book secretly and hid it from my parents. It finally came time to put it to good use.



I flipped through the pages of Libri Lucis. There were so many spells to choose from, among them were “Charm of Transformation” and “Waterwalking Conjuration”. The requirements for the charms were equally mysterious – they ranged from “eggs of a male toad” to “toenails from youngest sibling”. Carefully, my eyes scanned each page until one spell caught my eye:


Divination of The Unrest

Use: To put to rest once and for all beings of the dark.
Things needed: Sunlight, Guardian Amulet

Expose the creature to sunlight for 60 seconds. Repeat the following chant 3 times.

Hilah rinh shahih
Lich thians ah havinth
Perish thou soul with the light of heat
And return thee unrest to thy keep.


On the following page, the “Guardian Amulet” was attached to the page. It was a piece of leather string with a piece of ivory hanging in the middle. I had my safety spell, now I just needed to retrieve The Witch’s items.

The following day, I was forced by my parents to attend school after the board had reported my truancy but that was the least of my worries at this point of time. Before class, I went to unload my books from the locker and I was approached by Lydia who was wearing a floral mini dress that accentuated her petite figure.

“Hey Jakey, why didn’t you come to school yesterday?” she asked looking at me intently with her big blue eyes. This was so strange, Lydia was actually talking to me - an antisocial nerd that likes Pokemon and somehow got involved in the Dark Arts, and the amulet started to go warm. I told Lydia I was sick and we walked together to the Biology Lab for our next class.

Surprisingly, she offered me a seat next to her in the lab. I gladly accepted the offer like a dog being thrown a large bone. Today, for the class we were dissecting a frog but Lydia and I paid close to no attention to the teacher as he explained. We were too busy chatting and laughing with each other. It was the best time I have had with a girl in my entire life.


When it came time to start cutting up the poor amphibian, Lydia and I giggled and laughed while we poked the lifeless creature with our scalpels “in the name of Science” – as Lydia put it. In the midst of fooling around, I accidentally cut Lydia’s wrist with my scalpel. Albeit small, the cut was deep and blood spewed everywhere on our table. Afterwards, the teacher attended to her, covered the cut with a cloth and ushered her to the school’s nurse.

Regret flooded me as I stood in front of the bloody science lab table. I was too busy thinking about Lydia when the amulet started heating up again. Snapping out of my remorse, the amulet’s hint finally sank in. I had to collect the blood from my first love for The Witch. Whilst cleaning up the gruesome mess, secretly, I grabbed a test tube and scooped up some blood from the tabletop, secured it with a stopper and put it into my pocket.

After school, I saw Lydia by the water cooler in the hallway.

“Hey Lydia, are you alright? I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to do that, it was a total acci…”

Right then and there, Lydia kissed me. Her soft tender lips against mine brought me to a state of euphoria. I closed my eyes and felt as if I was melting just by her soft and gentle touch. Lydia broke the kiss, smiled and said, “I’m fine Jake. Now, follow me.” She dragged me to her parked Porsche. In the car, we blared loud upbeat music on the radio and had a ton of fun singing along.

            After that little bonding session in the car, Lydia had brought us to a hair salon. Countless of giggles later, both of us decided a short bob cut would suit her best besides giving her a refreshing new look. As she was getting her hair done, I sat and spectated in amazement, her long luscious strands of blonde hair falling to the ground. Lydia then got up to go and get her hair rinsed and that was when the amulet heated up once again. This time I was ready, I pretended to drop a piece of paper on the floor near the pile of Lydia’s hair. As I bent down to pick up the paper, I scooped some hair onto the paper, folded it and put it back into my pocket.

            In the car ride back home, I realized I couldn’t keep my secret from her any longer – I trusted her, now more than ever, I broke the silence and explained to her about The Witch and my plans to fulfill my promise with her the next day.

            “No Jake, you can’t go alone. I’m going with you, it’s much too dangerous for you to go alone! What if you get hurt?” Lydia insisted and persisted she tagged along with me the next day. Although reluctant, I agreed.

            It was the day of the final countdown between The Witch and I. Across the street from the old house, Lydia and I stood in silence. In my bag, I had with me “Libri Lucis”, the test tube of blood, the lock of hair, my penknife and a torchlight meanwhile on my neck, I had with me my ivory amulet. Once we were both ready, we entered the house.

            Despite it being broad daylight outside, the inside of the house was as I remembered it – cold, dark and dusty. A sudden gust of wind came in and echoes of The Witch’s cackles travelled with it causing the amulet to radiate. All at once, our torchlights died off, all the doors in the house started slamming violently and, the spine-curling laugh of The Witch roared through the walls of the house.

            Everything in the house came alive and before we knew it, The Witch was standing right in front of us. I gripped Lydia’s hand tightly and the amulet on my chest heated up like an oven. In an unexpected turn of events, Lydia’s skin grew scaly and her eyes turned green. Swiftly, she wrapped her slender long snaky body around my neck tightly and I was completely thrown off guard. The Witch approached both of us slowly, extended a skinny wrinkly hand and threw her head back laughing wildly.

            “Good job my pet. Now where are the goods?” the hag demanded. In one swift move, Lydia – or rather the snake, buried her fangs into my neck, cutting the rope of my amulet with the sides of her fangs. I kneeled to the ground inn agony, clutching my neck with my palm helplessly. The Witch lifted a finger pointed towards my knapsack and out flew the journal into her grey-hued hands.

            “Here my masssssster…” replied Lydia in a tone resembling a serpent’s as she slithered up The Witch’s arm with the amulet. The Witch pleased with her faithful assistant, threw a rat upward. The serpent jumped up, caught the rat in her mouth and bit hard – rodent blood spewed all over her mouth.

             Lying on the floor, The Witch walked towards me, bent down and explained, “You see little Jakey, I just used you to get what I wanted from your great grandmother, one of the greatest witches of all time. The nonsense about your first love was just bait and now you’ve fallen into my trap.”


The Witch raised a blade above her head with both hands towards my forehead. Just in the nick of time, I rolled away – leaving the hag stuck to the rotting floorboard with her knife. I ran into a little room where I saw a fireplace lighted up. I trashed the place like a madman as I heard the loud footsteps of The Witch and her cackles nearing the room. Somehow, I managed to find a can of gasoline and poured it over everything. The fire spread hot and fast but I was trapped for The Witch was at the entrance of the door. Just like in Physical Education class, I braced myself, charged and tackled The Witch at her abdominal area. “Thanks Mr. Joe, I owe you one,” I said under my breath, panting from all the adrenaline.

The Witch lay on the floor and ordered “her pet” to aid her in my capture. I rushed to the sides of the large hallway where we were all situated and started tugging down all the curtains letting sunlight enter and fill the room. The Witch hissed in torment and shrieked as smoke exited her pores. The snake was about to leap on me, fangs barred when out of the blue, a beam from the roof on fire fell on her, crushing her.

“Please Jake, help me!” pleaded Lydia, now back in human form. I shook my head at the girl I loved, picked up the amulet and journal lying scattered on the floor and headed towards the squirming witch.  I opened the journal and began chanting aloud in the burning building, on my final repetition, The Witch could take it no more, she charged at me with every ounce of energy she had left. Hilah rinh shahih. Lich thians ah havinth” I punched her hard in her stomach and pinned her down to the ground. Perish thou soul with the light of heat” I raised the amulet high above my head. “And return thee unrest to thy keep.” The ivory tusk plunged into The Witch’s heart.

            “NOOOOOOO!!!” she cried. Within a second, she became ash. The house was burning down fast - I grabbed the magical items and dashed out of the house without a second thought. Opposite the street, I watched as The Witch’s house burned down in flames. As I walked home, I realized, the amulet was trying to warn me of the dangers all along. I entered the house bruised, cut up and covered in ash and debris, my mother stood before me with a shocked face.

Nonchalantly, I walked up the stairs and said to her, “Toughest. Pokemon battle. Ever.”
______________________________

This was a story I wrote last year for the Scholastic Story writing competition. But since I didn't win, I thought I'd ought to share it with all of you. I hope you were as entertained reading the story as I was entertained writing it!
- Eeyeng Lim

Monday, March 9, 2015

Have You No Shame


Have You No Shame?
17.11.14

Showered with compliments
Beautiful, cute, sexy, perfect
All the comments
And all you do is smile, that's how you react

Have you no shame?
Playing with a persons feelings
Juggling the thoughts running through their head
Scrambling the emotions in their heart

Bringing up their hopes
Only to know that it's impossible
Only to know that "this" 
What you have, it's improbable

The empty void in yourself
You wanted to fill it with acceptance
That you've never had
That maybe.
Just maybe. 
This was the perfect chance.

No,
It wasn't.
This isn't right
Now you're writing 
After you've been up all night
Finally rationalizing

The feelings you've put in that deep dark hole
It's all artificial
Now you're digging and digging
Like a goddamn mole

Trying to salvage whatever sanity you have left
Only now the void is bigger,
Deeper and blacker 
And it's embedded itself on the insides of your chest.

Filled with regret
Remorseful
All you do is apologize 
To the poor soul you've just hurt
Tell them you're sorry

Tell them what you've finally realized
But now it's all too late
The vase is broken
The wires have snapped

Maybe you should have just said thank you
Stopped at that
You bit off more than you could chew
Both your feelings, trampled like a mat

Have you no shame?
Put down the cards
Throw away the dice
This is it, it's your final game

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Had I A Choice?


Had I A Choice?


                  The wind was gentle but chilly. I shut my eyes, tilted my head up and the soft cool breeze kissed my face and danced with the few strands of hair that escaped my ponytail. My face was sun kissed – much like the other women here. Today we were lucky for even the slightest gust of air. It’s the small things in life we’ve come to appreciate after losing everything we once had. My dried up lips curved up into a smile and then I returned to what I was doing – peeling potatoes. I looked at my hands, which were once soft and smooth as a baby’s bottom, now as rough and tough as a cactus in the desert. As I scraped the dirt off the starchy vegetables placed in my hand, my mind wandered back to the days when the good was great before we fell into the hands of fate.

                  “Jillian! Your lunch is ready!” I bellowed for my beautiful daughter from the bottom of the stairs. 

Slowly, I returned to the dining room and giggled to myself. Why you might ask? Well, she has yet to realize that I, her mother know she has gotten herself into her first real relationship with a boy. “Ah young love, sweet and innocent,” the thought circled in my head as I set up the dining table. Not long after, Jillian came down from her room and sat herself across from me. We had small chit-chat as we enjoyed servings of warm mashed potatoes and gravy with a side of roasted spring vegetables. “Mmm, what is that? It smells delicious!” exclaimed Sarah as she entered the house. Beaming with joy and clearly hungry after work, Sarah waltzed into the dining room and planted a small kiss on my forehead. I smiled, looked into her eyes and said, “Welcome home, honey.” As per usual, my daughter began “choking” and “coughing” at her food prior to seeing the public displays of affection by her mothers. Then all three of us would chuckle at each another like schoolgirls during recess.

                  “WHAT ARE YOU SMILING AT? GET BACK TO WORK YOU FILTHY HOMOSEXUAL!”

                  Snapping out, I scowled at the officer in disgust and spit on the floor to show my distaste. Sarah looked at me from across the field and eyed me not to make any rash decisions. Pissed off but aware that I’ve put myself in a spot, I took in a long deep breath and apologized to the officer.

“Yes sir! I am a dirty lesbian and have no right to smile.”

With a few long strides, he marched up to me and landed one tight slap across my face. An intense burning sensation engulfed my cheek. Violently, the officer cupped my jaw, brought his face close to mine and said “Trying to be funny? You’ll see the end of it bitch. Just you wait”. 

Then, he turned around and walked away. I regained my composure. Ironically, the pain that stabbed me internally in my chest overwhelmed the fiery pain I felt on my face because I knew no matter how much of a monster that man was – he was free. Maybe some day my family and I would finally be free.

       6 months. 6 months since have we been hauled, thrown and locked up in this dreaded concentration camp. The Government and The Almighty Heavenly Institute had come to agreement that all homosexuals and their families are part of a poisonous species and belong in hell where we should burn until we gained some degree of sanity. Well, I still remember the day as clear as water when our almost perfect world came crashing down upon us. Sarah, Jillian and I hid in the small crawlspace under the floorboards of our house. We had heard loud banging noises and stomps of heavy leather boots travelling above us. Our hearts were pounding fast and tears streamed down our faces. Watching my wife and daughter cry, being helpless and worried was like a wrench to your soul. Then, all the sounds halted. We could only hear the rhythm of our own breath. Inhaling. Exhaling. Maybe we were one of the lucky ones.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

                  Gunshots were fired from above mere centimetres from my family and I. The floorboards were torn open my large crowbars and we could see policemen from above looking down at us. It is ironic really, the men we paid with our hard earned money and taxes, and depended on to keep us safe were the exact people who hovered above us to tear us away from safety. “Got them,” smirked the lad in a buttoned up grey-coloured uniform garnished with medals and pins of silver and gold.

                  “RIIIIIIIIING!” went the bell. We moved to the cafeteria for dinner. A spoonful of stale rice and soup that smelt like urine were provided to every homosexual family. Jillian, Sarah and I sat in a small circle on the floor – each of us chewing on our food, not speaking a word and staring at a spot on the floor with lifeless eyes, stoned. I looked at my spouse; her face was as grey as death and her hair, which used to be as luscious as woven silk was now no more. Left with nothing but skin and bones, the only thing I saw in my family and myself now, were walking and breathing corpses.

An officer in black came in. Boots heavy on the floor, the sounds drumming against my eardrum.

Pointing at families scattered round the canteen, the officer counted, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine and…”

His eyes travelled the room and for a second, we made eye contact.

“Ten.”

                  Obediently like dogs on a chain, the ten families grouped together and walked towards a hallway. At the end of it, were two doors. The mothers and the children were separated. Mothers went into the door on the left, and children went into the door on the right. As I entered the cold dark room, my hand was locked with Sara’s. We stood in a line facing a black tinted glass of some sort. Confused, the women in the room looked around. Were we supposed to do something here? Where are they taking our children?

                  A few minutes later, a dim light turned on behind the glass and the black tinted glass was now fully transparent. What we saw on the other side knotted our stomachs and shattered our feeble hearts. Our very own children were standing stark naked in a place that looked very much like a bathroom. Their clothes were placed on the hooks and we could see an officer telling them some sort of instruction or news. Upon hearing the news, some children smiled slightly, others remained expressionless and dazed. The mothers in the room were left puzzled. After that, the officer exited the room and a siren began to sound. The children looked up at the showerheads above them in awe when water poured down upon them for the first time in 6 months. They were overjoyed. Some were already reaching out to the bars of soap to clean themselves. Sarah and I looked at each other not knowing what to think.

                  Then, the water stopped. The children were now lost and confused. What was going on? A few seconds later, white fumes escaped from the shower heads. Terror formed on the children’s faces as mass hysteria unfolded. They began coughing, huddling up in corners, crying and hugging. Some children fell to their knees unable to catch their breath. No, this was no shower. It was a gas chamber. All the women in the room went absolutely berserks.  They wailed and cried and scratched their nails and thumped their fists on the glass watching helplessly as their children, a merely a few feet away from them, fell to the wet floor – fell to their untimely death.

                  I stood there as my wife collapsed next to me in sorrow. My eyes began to fill with salty tears that soon trickled down my face. That was it. I had lost it. I had lost my world. Emptiness engulfed my soul as I experienced my daughter and at least 15 innocent children perish right in front of my eyes. The lights in the gas chamber turned off and the lights in our room turned on. As if stabbing our eyes, the fluorescent lights above us showed us that we stood in a huge room. About 30 to 50 male officers were in the room and we were all instructed to stand up. The men pulled us wives away from each other, forcefully separating our weakly linked bodies.

                  Among 9 other women, I stood staring at my spouse being dragged to the other end of the room by a group of men. Our hands were cuffed to the bar behind us like helpless animals. As if seeing my daughter die was not enough, I watched as men in uniform viciously and without a conscience, rape my wife. The room was now filled with screams of torment, torture and tears. Had these men no heart? Had these men no soul? I wailed for them to stop but the only thing that returned was more and more screams of lesbian women being stolen of their lives.

                  After the men had finished with the women, they put on the rest of their clothes and left the room. Smiling. Disgusting pigs. I hoped they burn in hell. All but 10 of them left. The 10 that remained moved to the side of the room and armed themselves each with an AK-47. One officer and one gun allocated for each of us women standing handcuffed to the bar. I faced my prosecutor with bloodshot eyes and a face filled with disgust. Across me stood the man that had slapped me this morning in the field. “Hello little lesbian, we meet again,” worded his filthy and disgusting mouth. “Did you like what I did to your wife over there? That’s what women are for – to please men. That’s why you’re an abomination. But don’t worry, I’m a kind man. I’ll make this fast and painless,” the officer said with an evil smirk across his face.

                  *Chak chak* sounded the gun.

                  Finger on the trigger, he aimed the gun at my face.


If I could change everything, had I a choice?
I couldn’t love men even if I tried.
I could only love what was forbidden to most.
I could only love the same sex.
Had I a choice to be born this way?
Had I a choice to be born into death?
Had I a choice?
No, I had none.
I had no choice.