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speaking in empty corridors

by divya

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1.
i know how you feel about your mother and this house that won’t let you go i know how you want to shed all your skin and begin once again. what happened to being young and hopeful to being the resistance to bringing me roses in my apartment what happened to the mornings we thought we’d have in sunstained chairs, doing the crossword and talking about politics fearing fascism but ready to fight it how you cut yourself out of your blood relatives’ expectations and forged a new family for yourself. but here we are now here we are now here we are alive but only just. like differential calculus. you, a jailbird, wings speckled a billion different colours but still not permitted to fly. i let you rest on my shoulder, eat from my palm. these are things i do in the name of love. i have the loneliness of a wolf inside me and it festers. i put my hand on your cheek. i think of broken glass, of us at 19 when anything seemed possible and death was just a punchline to a joke neither of us was making. i think of us like this: mist-woven dreamboys. mistaking smoke & mirrors for the river styx, rabid in love but filled up with fear and a hollow emptiness that comes from growing up with regulations on love. your mother cannot hurt you again, but i can and you know this you fear this but you have nothing to fear, anymore. we are not young enough for fistfights. i would much rather fall asleep in your arms, pretending that i can ignore the taste of blood in my mouth, letting the smell of cigarettes and wildflowers and wet dog take me back to an era when things didn’t hurt like this when everything was sweet, not bittersweet, not bitter. not coated with shadows of things lost. but it’s fine. let’s not talk about your mother anymore. whatever else we lost, somewhere in this house that dreams of your demise we found each other. this time, i will not let you go.

about

just me, trying out this spoken word thing.

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released December 14, 2018

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all rights reserved

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about

divya India

19, queer in every possible sense of the word. poet, dreamer & some sort of artist.

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