HOME

I have lived
my entire life
wearing and shedding
houses
like you do
clothes.

Some, too ill-fitted,
some, too small,
some, so big
you get lost in them,
and some that are
in all practicality
perfect
but just don't feel right.

I have shed these houses
picked my bare minimums
and moved...

Moved,
wherever the wind takes me
to a new cloth,
a new house.
And I shrug off
these houses
without a second thought
knowing the next one
will be different
and I will love it
for a little while
until it is time
to shed again.

But there are days,
when I just want to stop
and wear one
like I wear my skin,
and finally
call it home.

YOU

You existed
in another phase
another life
another maze
that you graced.
A maze I made out of.
And yet
there still are days
when I open
the back of my
spine
and pull out
pieces
of you.

TIME

Ten months
Three days
And Sixteen hours ago
I stood at my sink
looked at my
bloodshot eyes
and sutured
my ribcage shut
slashing
carelessly
at the loose threads
hanging outside…
too delicate
to shove
back in.
So when you asked me
to trust you
and un-suture
my chest
and you found
blank eyes
staring back at you,

it was just me
calculating
all this while.

SACCHARINE

You used to
take my name
and saccharine
would drip
from your
ruby lips
until
I
turned a diabetic
and now
every time
you utter my name
with razors made of sugar
in your mouth
I only find
shards of
malice
dribbling
on the ground.