Sunday, June 19, 2011

estranged

this face is not mine
these hands hold no dust
nor shine
nor an ounce of love that lived on
in the creeks of my skin
i, within
a world submerged
upside down in the waters
of sweetest nonchalance
yet if perchance i wake up
from this terrifying terrifying sleep
hold me tight, sir Tragedy!
for i refuse to fall back:
god knows i can't swim.

2 comments:

  1. Sometimes what people write make no sense to me, especially if I don't know them or their story.
    What is your story Aranya?

    I want it to make sense.

    ReplyDelete