The Expansion and Contraction of Me
written by: Deepikaa Chaand
Coping, walking, coping
pacing, racing, pacing
panting, life is daunting, so haunting, I am dismally left wanting
they carved me clean and removed my soul with surgical precision
and since then I walk on my hands with my head tucked under an arm,
my feet tied to my waist
I am a rubix cube having a hollow implosion, a slow explosion,
I am a sphere with acute angles,
I am an odd shape with no name
housing a fistful of air that houses my presence
as my fingers relax their grip,
and my palms open into vulnerability,
my essence flies away like pulverized stones
into the eccentricities of the winds
and poof, I’m gone
Bring me back someone.
Latest posts by Deepikaa Chaand (see all)
- The Expansion and Contraction of Me - November 12, 2019