hear this out

Toast the New Year With Vintage Shots of Ladies Drinking  - ELLE.com

this time,
my ribs are the house of tears of walled up cities, lost.
a sunken pool of total insanity, you might say.
i want to feel antique, like a vintage lampshade burning bright
in the corners of total darkness.
a flower of hope, blooming on my hip, on my lip.

this insanity does all the bizarre things, like a foot inside a mouth,
choking the timeline of flashbacks.
the mewl of sighs, swollen up, gazed up.

i could armor myself, like soft breeze
only at nights now, hallucinations maybe?
the broken air that traps my waist, sits next to me.
it calls me her baby.
a moist conversation.

i often hear whispers of this brain clinging my mouth,
it offers silent prayers too.
i burn with a film of oil in the tongue.
a poisoned needle that disturbs a human.

so, i paint my skin with a nude color of weeds,
to camouflage like a sky in the sky.
words lost in words.
a pattern.

and i wake up the next morning to repeat the same insipid steps. I create art each day.

Published by

my valiant soul

A dreamer and a believer for the upliftment of women rights. A published poet, author, writer. Believes in dancing and cooking amazing food for hungry souls at times. Loves to write and write till the moon is satisfied. My writings can be found at Visual Verse, Indian Periodical, Sick Lit mag, Duane's Poetree, Thistle magazine, among various others. Curator of Olive Skins.

54 Comments

  1. A deep piece filled with hints of feeling out of place within the skin, as if the sol belongs elsewhere in another time or dimension. Many of us create art from the cacophony of voices that keep us company, then repeat it daily. Relatable and beautiful as always

    Liked by 1 person

  2. ‘..this insanity does all the bizarre things, like a foot inside a mouth,
    choking the timeline of flashbacks.
    the mewl of sighs, swollen up, gazed up…’
    Oh my God, this is so raw and dark
    Amazing work, Devika!
    ❀

    Liked by 1 person

  3. “””, i paint my skin with a nude color of weeds,
    to camouflage like a sky in the sky.
    words lost in words.
    a pattern..””” how can you write these kind of line…do one thing…in insta..sully some of your brain in form of liquid to me..I will drink it and try to write poem

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I have always read your posts with an amazed feeling. It continues. But of late I am getting a feeling that I am understanding you better. Earlier it was an awesome feeling when reading, but now the words stick. Not that I fully comprehend, but I absorb the essence.
    Thank you MVS, my favourite

    Liked by 1 person

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