poetry

The ritual of healing

I settled in the shower

Stripped to my skin

Crashed on the cold floor

Let my body transfer heat to the walls

Closed my eyes

And let out a breath

Let the burning hot water touch every inch

It was then I realised

I burned in places, scarred, torn and ripped apart

The muscles knotted in places

And churned at the feel of the water

“Oh my poor body”, I exclaimed

The agony it went through

Because of the wars fought inside my head

And for the first time

It burned, crying for attention

Bleeding in places

Hair grown all over

A few extra inches of waist

And chin

We don’t talk enough about how body suffers

Do we?

I sat under the hot water till my skin shriveled

“I am sorry”, I exclaimed to self

Moving my fingers through most blessed

And glorified parts of what makes me,

A woman

And my body fought on par with my mind

For the first time

I made love to self

To the parts of body that brought me shame

Moaning, groaning, weeping and wailing

The answer was here all through

Inside the walls of my deep dark self

The path less treaded in love

More in boundaries of relationships

And I walked in and hovered around

Felt my own strength

Hidden and shunned away

And when the hot water hit my body

One last time

I rained wildfire

And the warrior was back home

To heal from wounds of a lost battle

For the war was still yet to be won

And battle to be forgotten

poetry

Flatline

Healing happens in waves
Voids don’t fill so easy; and
Homes aren’t rebuilt in a day

Strangers come, strangers go
Conversations and laughter
Don’t numb the radio silence
And the sound of static
Emotion canvas
Painted in black
No edges, no shades
None of the contours

Staring out of the window
Our eyes meet but
My soul doesn’t speak
Dormant, docile
Afraid to be hurt again
Wounds that still bleed
Empty breaths

Every morning
Brings the same sunrise
North wind that brings winter
Three seasons go by
Days change as the pages
In a calendar
With every hour, I feel lesser
Afraid to die
On the Inside
Cancer of the emotions
Takes every little feeling away

Hugs, kisses
Warmth and cuddles
Sex and human touch
As if to bring to life
For a brief second, only
To send it back to the same flatline

Faking happiness at Happy Hours
Not knowing where’d you rather be
I guess it’s like I say,
Healing happens in waves
Voids don’t fill so easy; and
Homes aren’t rebuilt in a day