Dust

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My fingers have touched dust

Swiped them off across surfaces of

Desks, doors, open windows.

I have seen the dust dance

Attended their ballroom in broad

Streaming white sunlight.

Removing them from parts of me

I have taken showers

With hot water in hot summer.

Still, the dust keeps coming back to me

Forms patterns on the smooth and rough ground.

Their existence drives me mad,

And they seem to enjoy my madness.

Maybe, dust is not dust

And I am not me

Only the mad truly exist

In this burning reality.

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~insight07 •

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Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.

Heat

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Heat grows on the surface of my skin

No light, no dark

Just the thorns that were within

Are my branches now.

The well of thirst builds in my throat

A drop of honey and golden milk

Sticky fingers touch a burning neck

The quivering sun of water ponds

Water in clouds that we want.

A dry pen, an empty mind

An open window- with no semblance of life

Within and outside.

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~insight07

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Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.

Panic

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Step back

Step back

Left before right before le-

Breathe fast

Lungs struggling in my ribs

Dadum dadum dadum

A muscle in my chest marches

Step back

Step back…

There is no more space

The walls have closed in-

What are we?

Where are we?

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~insight07

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Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.

Economic unit

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The noises of this place are unfamiliar

There is an odd sensation in my being

These faces are still new to me

I’m swimming in memories of the past few months and weeks

Some people were my people

Some were not, even if I wanted or they wanted

It’s a strange world

Shifting cities with shifting months with shifting responsibilities

My time has monetary value now

My stay in a place measured in money

I’m an economic unit now

Oh, how I miss when my only worry was

Waking up on time for school and being with my best friends everyday

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~insight07 •

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Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.