A Tale Told By Two Colours

I am a blue tele wire rubber band,

who’s lifespan depends on how anxious my master is.

My objective of use was initially to hold the hair together.

Instead, I am always on her right wrist

which she chooses to pull and twist,

turn and stretch whenever she is lost,

bored or anxious.

*sometimes I feel she doesn’t even realize that she is playing with me *

She thinks she is playing,

but I being the object of play,

do not feel the same way about it.

Sometimes, she would play too much

and end up breaking me apart,

from that little joint welded together

with a small flame of fire which keeps me round,

and enables me to be around her wrist.

I have been pulled apart and broken multiple times

but it’s ironic how she weeps every time I’m broken

while she is the one breaking me apart.

*humans are complicated things, they feel hurt over things they hurt themselves*

She, however manages to fix me

and make me usable enough to satisfy her needs.

Honestly, I do not know how much longer would I survive,

considering the times I have been repaired.

I am somewhat grateful to her though,

for repairing me and reusing me

and not letting go into the tedious

and painful process of recycling

(which plastic objects like me have to go through when thrown away)

unlike my previous tele wire siblings

like peach, red, green, clear and many more.

She has a rather special incline towards me

and that’s simply just because of my colour blue.

I feel bad about the way my older siblings were treated with such carelessness,

but I am glad that I do not get treated as just a mere rubber band

and I hold a much special place.

*perks of being on the advantageous side of racism based on colour*

Looking at all these humans makes me think

of how must they be treating their fellow humans.

It is almost like they are so full of themselves,

that they don’t even have the time to think about someone else,

forget about an object like me.

For that, I am forever grateful to my master,

she at least takes some care of me if not others or other things.

Her love for me is evident the way she weeps for me.

Well, I am selfish too, though I am just an object.

The “I” will only stand till I stand

and I do not want to be the one to fall

and put an end to my version of “I”.

So, I may complain about my master

but I am grateful that I am cared for.

It is not my concern if she cared for others or not.

I am satisfied by the reflection I see of her.

- The blue tele wire rubber band

Hold on.......

I am gold but she calls me yellow again.

I am gold but I feel undervalued and demeaned when she looks at me in search of yellow.

I get angry and feel not appreciated enough for my lustrous colour, for I am gold.

I want to yell at her and tell her not to make me feel this way, for I am gold.

But I just can’t,

I don’t have a voice.

I am just an inanimate object.

*However, sometimes, internally, I wonder if I am actually nothing but yellow*

- the yellow ring

I am here to comfort you in your solitude and in your loneliness.

You enjoy looking at me when you are happy,

but it is a different sort of comfort you feel with me in your blues.

Ironic how the blue comforts your blues.

- The blue tele wire rubber band

*I know, however, it isn’t me that you feel the comfort in but merely the blue in me*

- Blue tele wire rubber band