OLIVIA CHAN | CREATIVES
It was overplayed at one point,
Blending into our social fabric
Like small talk he made at a pit stop
On the way home from the game shop.
And he liked to play
According to her build
his car, his PC, his horse
The better the build, the more to brag;
But if it wasn’t for her build
He’d only have
a car, a PC, a horse
An ‘our Father’ without a Motherland.
Yet, all that was left in her hand were second-hand goods
Stood up at the side of the road.
What if she played out
Something that had never been imagined before
Something that exceeded her build;
Something that she built.
Something she could brag about
Without the scores penetrating her thighs
Or the metres of skin she owns.
Something she could show the world
Without the scales of ‘justice’
Whispering snarky comments about her build.
She built.
It was her will.