Painting by Debashish Saha

Leaf by leaf

I shed all my leaves in sight,
just to keep you upright.

I wither low, too many times,
just to catch your ray of smile.

I hide away from every light,
just to water your lawn of pride.

I am yours, alright…
But you?

You were never mine.

Full Moon

The moon was her

Tonight—
Full.
Fresh, bright, beautiful,
Unapologetically new.

After a cycle of dysmorphia,
Feeling half,
Bent,
Out of shape,
Incomplete—

After giving all of her
To everyone—
All she could possibly give,
To those who dwell in her radiance,
And those who only dim it.

It took an entire cycle,
But she’s back.
Back again,
So full of grace and light.

Hopefully,
This time,
Someone sees her as she is.

Truly.
Wholly.
Entirely.

Sledgehammer

Like a sledgehammer,
you broke my walls down—
said I didn’t need one,
the walls I took a decade to build.

Like a sledgehammer,
dressed as everything I prayed for,
you gave me glimpses
of what I wanted—
what I had,
both past and present.

Like a sledgehammer
to my broken heart—
now shattered,
too tired to pick up the pieces,
too tired to avoid stepping on them—
like you walked all over me.

Too Far Down

Algaed chains wrap ‘round my ankles,
pulling me down—
an anchor forged from every shadow,
every action I can’t take back.

Darkness cradles me,
dragging me into depths
where even my voice
is lost,
too far for rescue,
too faint for echo.

My eyes close.
I surrender to the bed
of cold and quiet.

But the sun —
it tickles my face
with fragile fingers.
A ray,
a glimmer,
a maybe.

I reach for it…
but my limbs remember
how the depths stripped me bare,
how silence kissed
the parts of me still screaming.

And somehow,
in this drowning,
in this weight,
I found comfort.

I found solace
in the dark
that never asked me to rise.