Cottage I Abandoned

My fingers turn wrinkly by the end of dusk drowning in the sink of everything I could have done and could have been but every step I took since I was eleven and womanhood hit me led me here.

My life was full of soil that could lead to a garden full of tulips but I ripped away every bloom that peeked when the weather got stormy and now I am staring at a naked cottage, screaming in pain, desperate for shelter looking at me with rage, and like every time I promise to sow the seeds of prettiest flowers, to make things alright but next day I wake up and forget about the promise.
I am the honey, spilled on the floor of a house, inviting a trail of ants which eventually turns into a trap of massacre. I intend to feed their growling stomach but turns out to be their last meal. Everything comes and shatters at my doorsill like I was born to be loved and hated at the same time.
At the edge of the monsoon, I find myself bleeding like a freshly painted canvas forgotten under a dripping ceiling. I’ve traded  capsules of  ibuprofen for every stab through my skin for it to pain enough and assemble all the broken shackles of  memories into the clot so that it doesn’t wander around
I  try walking on the roads that lead me to home but the weather between the few steps feels like polar ends, the words between my throat and mouth have to cover a marathon before finding a way out and it starts raining once again in the path between the chambers of my heart and ducts of my eye and  I silently shift my gaze, like my internal city wasn’t shaken once again. I  watch the tracks covered in burnt grass stretch across trying to find meaning in everything I’ve ever been and everything that ever happens.
There comes a lake turned green and mushy with a boat stuck right in between like it hasn’t moved an inch in years, eventually getting consumed and I find it much like i carry everything that has occurred to me on my toes spilling like the same honey that consumes all the hearts that could love it.
So at the dawn of the winter, I am the cottage left naked in the cold all by myself.
~Warisha Taj


  1. Loved it. ❤️✨

  2. Sarmili Bhadra

    You’re too good reeeee❤️