Poetry

Pocket Sized Sun

The forest of my mind is a maze of distraught darkness

the days are dull, discoloured,

devoid of any drama

the nights are chilly, lonely and forlornly moonless

a wilted wallflower waiting

for a pocket sized piece of sun

I wander aimlessly, blindly

being gulped by despair and devoured by silence

silence that leaves bite marks all over me

silence that comes unstuck in the air

mingling with fear and sweat

and keening softly in my ears

rain washes away all the markers I had left

now lost forever

I keep losing myself over and over again

my mind fiddling with reality

a handful of truths slip through the cracks of my fist

as I try to pummel the lies

spinning their web tight around me

my days segue into weeks that segue into years

but the pocket sized piece of sun continues to elude me.

                                                                                 ~ Punam Sharma

                                                                                   India

Comments are closed.