I cannot sleep tonight The interstices between my breaths Scream for fulfilling thoughts There is nothing but rain spitting bitterly on the street outside. A beautiful woman sings at my feet She asks me not to look for love or freedom Perhaps I am not free to love her either. I cannot sleep tonight and will not sleep for a few more nights Years Until my hair runs so long That anyone would know it's mine Anyone would know it's me that they are to seek And love. The woman smiles and sings again I will listen to her, I do not want to sleep She tells me of stones that maidens pick up As they splash their way To the river that births a village And the maidens pay the unpayable maternal debt In what else but tears No stone was a gem, so the song goes, No happy endings appear. The woman at my feet is cruel, I think, The woman at my feet is wise, Yet I string my few pebbles into a necklace. My eyeballs are no less stony No wonder I cannot sleep tonight And will not for some nights more. The woman will sing My heart will weep As I see her go.
Moments Of happenings and the lack thereof A swarm of crows speeding towards my skin Plucking it off by bits I take you, Time, I grab your hair and pull them off one by one Do not dare to stroke my cheeks and not stop for a kiss. A knock on my chest There are knots in my chest Time does not enter. I clutch in air and her hair falls in my palm It was an act of love I saw an act of violence Aloof and alone and endless, Time, you bitch You make love to them and look right past me.
A certain wetness in his skin Trickling down his neck like a sweetness I dreamt of Some years ago, when no mirror knew my name. My ears against his hair His face against my chest The sun drops out in mercy and the moon walks in again Red, red, round and shining Will he understand? The moon never tells you how to keep a man. He picks me up and I run along I'm descending into the madness of joy Where is the knife to destroy this? Where are my soldiers March! Cover me with shields Don't let me dance! But her eyes Oh (I am the hopeless poet) Petals of paradise. She sees me when I am hidden in smoke I stare at her I redden like the moon I once ran away from I run again Her hair like the flood of a sea Sways me. Don't draw me in! I am a child again, She is my joy My tears against her lips Her words against my breath I cry for help Oh The need to escape.
A man shoots his tongue out Like a frog wrinkled into age Slaps it on my face "You are pretty" A curt nod, and I thank him A girl is happy if she is pretty She must be So she is. The frog draws his tongue back A disgusting slurp and a smirk "But not quite!" If I were a few hours younger I would turn to a statue. But hey Medusa, hey Shurpanakha, hey women who won't take shit from men I did it And I will do it again A curt nod, and I say "Sure" And I smile And I break into laughter As if the frog is dressed as a prince and looks like a clown. A girl is happy Her laughter resounds.
A bludgeon Try me try me try me try The trees are still green and the roads striped white Brilliant, shining, and oh god so neat I have all the food I just lost my teeth I scroll through my posts How was I young? How do I grow old? This poem is all about me So were the ones before. The closet of my home beckons me back Will I grow young again? Will I forget Lack of ripples and a pollution of foam This poem reads like the one That I once thought felt like home.
The candle is burning out I've been spread like ash long ago This is not about that Don't worry I'll have a lifetime to mourn myself. The green of the trees slip some sun through them My friends shine so bright Each different like pebbles sifted from sand Round, sharp, smooth, whichever way you like My friends are here And will be till I forget what Time is supposed to say. There is no candle, there will be no darkness I will tell myself this. I will tell myself I will be this embraced This myself Forever But the candle is burning and the sun slipped through the leaves Because they're waving me goodbye A city's open arms and a home's enormous heart If I speak I will reduce it and end up slicing it all into puns This life happened (the past tense a stab) Like no other life could This love happened, for once.
You are a smart girl You know how to deal with this, don't you? Horses spring out of the books I read All my life is a childhood Read, read, read Never speak what is impossible to believe You are a smart girl It's funny how only wounds smart Kisses are wet and sloppy and disgusting. I cannot dream of what I have become My teeth will break someday and tongue twist into a knot Why are some words so fucking soft? Read, read, read Horses sprang out of the books I read Princes, fairies and demons I was a smart girl so I knew they were impossible You can only read about it If it happens to you You are impossible And I will keep you in my world. If I were really a smart girl Why do I not know where I am? Read, read, read. Deal with it.
Three hundred days and some more Foot crunched leaves, drops of rain on my cracked screen-glass Dust on my books and your heart, unstuck My lips hang heavy with words she forbids me to speak. Do you know what I mean? Childhood, lonely, us against the world Me against the storm She dances and asks, what gives you life? I don't understand, I eat candy and kurkure, I don't understand Eight years old in an evening lit by an India-Pakistan match She smiles, what can you give your life for? I scroll through my feed, smoking in a city of tall men I don't understand A walk in the rain, you hold my hand. I preach around, "give it time". She makes me think Do we own it? Time? There is never enough No one enough Footsteps fade away in a green shadow of love My heart is deflating with every thought I air Disgust. Despair. I reach back to the summers when I breathed unhelped Fell in love with a boy for one evening And not a minute more I remember his silly jokes. Do you think he remembers me? Do I remember him? I never even knew his name I think of him sometimes Perhaps only when it rains. I reach back to autumns, Pujo Young but not reckless With a heart which had miles to go Every year I think how far I've come Three hundred ... and some more.
I wish I could be angry
Like burning.
Like fire and red hot metal
Like past the need for similes
Purely angry and lashing out.
I am crawling in, again
And there’s no one to stop me
My bones are out and my skin is the marrow
I have decided that I am the horror
So I will recollect the space I took
I will give it back
But how.
But why?
If only I could be an angry bullet and shoot through you
Because you have hurt me
But you didn’t
Because you loved me
But you needn’t have.
Either way I am inside the outer space
I have emptied the way
For you and you and you all
Who I can’t blame for my state
Who I didn’t love nor hate, either
Now I am stepping on words already spoken.
I can’t call myself heartbroken
And I cannot even be angry, you know?
I tuck my eyes inside my sockets
And I prepare to go.
The trees are lush green and two lovers are dancing in the rain
They are my friends, they wave at me
My foot is stuck in the mud
I am inside my room, by the window
I wave back
They move on, their arms sprawling
Around each other
I pull my fingers into a fist
I crack my knuckles
Open my book
And stare.
I could be anywhere
But there’s a piece of paper under my tongue
Perhaps it has tobacco traces
It’s so bitter
I take my sharp fingernails and scratch there
Violently
But it doesn’t come out
I try to swallow it but it doesn’t go down
Who cares.
It’s still raining but he hasn’t called me yet
He was supposed to tell me what to do
Why will I write about waiting again?
He calls me. I pick up. We listen to the rain, silent
We know what to do
And we do it!
Our lives and loves are scheduled and sorted
And maybe we join the two lovers from before
Even if the rain stops.
I put my finger inside my mouth (I assume I was laughing already, mouth agape)
The paper is still stuck like a tape, bitter, sinister
I cut off my tongue.
The paper slides down and sticks to my throat…
My giggles are frightening and contaminated
Everything’s still wrong.
