Sorry, I said,
standing up from the chair,
“I can’t join your conversations
if you are talking badly about someone
in their absence.
My heart burns.
There are some living zombies among us.
They don’t attack suddenly.
They don’t even scare you.
They mix with you,
share their snacks,
laugh with you,
make you feel like
you belong among them.
But by the time you realise
their true intentions,
they have already
infected your trust.
I believe only zombies backbite
when you are not conscious.
And if you are living zombies,
carrying the parasite of gossip,
you are free to demean
or belittle anyone.
But I am not part of your universe.
I don’t belong there.
I will make it easier for you.
If you think it is my attitude,
then yes,
you have got something
to talk about behind my back.
As long as I don’t listen,
you can talk about me.
Even if I hear it from someone,
it really doesn’t matter.
I can read billboards from a distance.
That’s enough for me.”
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