“Will you still love me, when I am no longer, Young and Beautiful,
Will you still love me, when I have got nothing, But my aching soul.”
I know you won’t, I know you won’t, I know you won’t.
Half a decade ago, I would have singed along with the actual lyrics,
but my illusions were shattered.
And I am glad, they were.
I was shown, my replaceability, because I was only perceived as some-body
Their fetishes and fantasies were projected on that body,
but it meant, the body was, means to an end.
A house is replaced, once you want the one, with a skyline,
A car is second-handed, for a status up lifter,
A phone becomes obsolete, every September.
A (some)-body becomes, out of trend every season,
A (some)-body has a best-before age,
Welcome to the harrowing dark ages.
Here, you are not a person with your complexities, contradictions, inner rich worlds, filled with dreams, desperations, passions, love, longings and visions,
Here, you are not someone’s daughter, son, or friend,
Here, you are not someone who struggles every day and yet survives,
Here, you are not the survivor, who battled many fights.
Here, you are not a person, a human being,
Here, you are just some-body, (some)-body, a body.