2 Poems

Part 1: My Walk to Death
My head throbbing.
My eyes stinging.
My lungs screaming.
My heart shaking.

It was all coming to an end.
No light. No hope. No strength.

The road was long, long and dark,
Scars of harsh red, harsh and stark.
My teachers who told me I was no good,
Those helpless days where alone I stood.
The wicked wife who stole my Love,
All these ravens disguised as doves.
My tearstained pillows and bloodstained blade,
My broken wrists and unwashed braids.
When he forced himself on me,
Messing with my mind and body,
Never again to live in my own skin,
Until I found a new way to begin.

Part 2: My Walk Reversed
The faces that had faded with time come alive
As I take control of the steering wheel of my drive.
My mother who had always held my hand,
My father who taught me how to stand,
My big sister who taught me to be my own style,
My little brother who looked up to me with those wide, innocent eyes,
My friends who were by my side through all kinds of weather,
Hugged me and loved me and made me better,
Those people with whom I could share my food,
Wear no masks; show skin bare and nude.
The road was long, long and infused
With those who loved me, loved me when I was bruised.

Trying to forgive myself and others for all our mistakes,
I’m reborn. Conscious. Suddenly awake.

My head lightening.
My eyes opening.
My lungs breathing.
My heart beating.

Interconnecting Circles


Who Am I?

Am I the tiny toddler who was born two weeks too early?
Or the toddler obsessed with her blonde barbies?
Am I the kid who cried when she had to leave her mamma’s lap?
Or the one who would wail to take afternoon naps?

Am I the picky eater who just sits and stares at her food?
Or the one who gobbled five plates of pasta?
Am I the girl who jumped into a beehive because she was scared of your dog?
Or the one that petted your lion cub?

Am I the smart third grader who topped her math test?
Or the one who can never solve a math sum on her own?
Am I that tall fourth grader who would win every sprint?
Or that short girl without a single athletic bone?

Am I the one that’ll smile at you but never talk?
Or the one that’ll talk till your ears hurt but never smile?

Could I be the stressed, anxious girl who cries herself to sleep?
Or the calm, composed one who comforted you today?
Could I be the frightened friend who hides behind your back because she finds all strangers threatening?
Or the brave friend who always defends you, supports you and stands up for you?

Could I be the troublemaker and the peacekeeper?
The straightforward girl with a sharp, blunt tongue who’ll tell you when your outfit is ugly?
Or the sweet, benevolent one who always compliments you and makes you believe in yourself when even you don’t?
Or the one who looks at you with piercing eyes, observes you but doesn’t say anything?

Could I be the crazy Harry Potter fangirl who stands in long ques just so that she can get the first copy of the latest book?
Or the mild, indifferent one who always agrees with your strong opinion?

I’m the girl who is constantly binge-watching Netflix in her pyjamas.
I’m the girl who loves to dress up, put tons of make-up and dreams of going for exotic holidays to Hawaii.
I’m the big, bossy leader who wants things done her way and her way only.
I’m the quiet, wide-eyed follower who’ll do everything you say.

I’m the sassy girl who roasts you and teases you.
I’m the one who sits on the side and listens to all you have to say.
I’m the girl who confides all her secrets to her diary.
I’m the open book who will trust you too easily.

I’m the girl who goes to the beach just to get aesthetic pictures.
I’m the one who can’t live in her own skin, who is afraid of her own voice.
I’m the girl who gets everything too easily.
I’m the one who’ll spend sleepless nights before her final exam just to polish up her work.

Am I the one who is too afraid to love you?
Or the one who’ll give you every piece of her heart?
Am I the girl who you’ll forget about soon?
Or the one who has left a bit of her inside you?

Am I the girl who I look like?
Or am I hidden?
Am I a manifestation of all of these things?
Or none of these at all?
Who am I?
Who am I?
Who am I?

Interconnecting Circles

Comments

  1. Janet Hinze - November 12, 2018 @ 10:31 pm

    The images in My Walk to Death, Part I are stunning.

  2. J K Mazumder - November 10, 2018 @ 10:37 pm

    Excellent poem

Comments are closed.