Feeling of Home


While walking on a green field
Under the pale moon,
I remember home.
The suffocating fullness of the incomprehensible love
Habits that have been formed with my limbs
People whose blood and illness I carry as well
A certain smile and care that will always tell me, it will be okay
I remember the walls that have seen me become
A hundred different Devikas before I froze, brick by brick.
All the fights and terror with which we passed each day
All that emotion that flowed thick in us.
The laughs and loose hair, chatter that will always comfort me in my sleep.
I have had the privilege of growing up among different mothers
And I am a daughter to all.

Miles away, my heart beats quickly
I miss not feeling like a pretense
Not being judged in a way that made me doubt my bricks
Not feeling like a burden or having my thoughts questioned
Because even they are a part of an illness that was passed down to me.

Why is home so far?
Why is the feeling of home so far?


~insight07


Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.

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Just Stop

Thoughts break and whisper in my ears
Not my own, not always
Older eyes stare back each time I look in the mirror
No one is interested in me but me
The unaging mind that sits inside an aging body
Maybe in dreams I see my younger self
And now, I am stared at
Unflinchingly by a stranger
From few days ahead in the future.
I am not sure all people on the road are there
I believe at some point there will be
Copies and forms of thoughts
Your and mine
Out there. Time passes through us as needles
Pinching in some spaces, closing holes through knots
Skin is impermeable.
I haven’t seen my toes in long,
It is a long winter, gathering comfortably in my sweater and socks.
On round pills and liquid tonics, I float
In a sky, almost near the moon.
Maybe I will steal a rock and paint a moon and waves on it.
Or the birds that are needled to my skin.
There’s pain within, tearing my teeth apart.
A sickness that spreads to mind and bones and beyond.
Yet, we keep moving on
And I attend a meeting after the other-
Earphones in my ears.

Please, just stop.

~insight07

Access prose and poems in my book, “Dreaming in a Fish Bowl”!

Link- https://rb.gy/nbxljh


Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.

Living Memory

A string of words from alien lips remind me of you
I held onto the threads with sticky, honey fingers.
I am wearing my heart on my sleeves
But there is no one to see.
Or hear, or breathe.
It is only the inside of me colouring this house mauve
Then a deep purple,
Then a night.
Moon has come whispering to the sky
A half strung sigh I steal from its lungs
And let it exit from mine.
We are sisters born from the same body, you see.
I lie parallel to some lines that I can’t see-
The human eye and floors above limit me.
But I imagine, as I always do
About horses flying, carrying the sun
From my end to you
They give you a kiss, and a cuddle, some snuggle
On a winter morning we have never spent apart.
(On a straight graph, your bed is parallel to mine
Even if we are some oceans and turtles apart)

~insight07

Access prose and poems in my book, “Dreaming in a Fish Bowl”!

Link- https://rb.gy/nbxljh


Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.

Things I Miss

Things I miss from a thousand days ago-
Coins and puddles full of frogs
Roads full of footsteps and wet flowers
Fallen from a yellow wall.
A little flurry of activity that was not my own
People that were strange and did not feel like my own.
A mind full of romance and blank sheets of knowledge.
Ten black and white photos up a blank hostel wall.

Things I miss from a hundred days ago-
Warmth in my bones from a too heated sun
A surety of a goodbye that was a band-aid
Waiting to be ripped off.
Sharing four walls with two and dreaming of another nation
With unknown white walls under a sky California blue.
Mirror image with a mind talking and sharing and cooking
Love with so much food that is a part of my happiness.

Things I miss from today, even though today is not over just yet-
The feel of thunder on my fingers as I woke from a deep slumber,
Cold taste of a bread I baked yesterday
Evening tea, and what it means-
The day is not over just yet.
Talking to a stranger friend and feeling the threads in my mind
With fingers that now feel creative in typing this rhyme.

~insight07

Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.