A Casket of Roses//


I try to tell my friends

That I am the same person

On the outside.

The same smile,

The same tears,

The same pale skin that is trying to cover my lifeless soul.

But what has changed now

Is my urge to look forward to things

My excitement when I look at people.

I can’t explain to them

How I want to get outside my house,

But I don’t feel like.

How the closed doors scare me

As much as the open fields

How the jewel I wore with pride

Now chokes me

How the flowers I tried to water

Are now dying of thirst

How I can only feel the thorns

Of the corset that is so beautifully decorated on my wrist

That I wish people make plans involving me

But secretly pray they cancel

Or make excuses so genuine

That I’ve myself started to believe them.

It is human interaction that I’m avoiding,

Yet that is the only thing I want.

I try to tell my sister

That it is hurting

But I can’t seem to channel my thoughts right

Or pen them down in a way

They make sense to anybody else except me,

But she would not listen.

Am I not saying it loud enough

Or clear enough?

I try to tell my mother,

She asks me to make new friends or better plans,

But she fails in trying to decipher the words dripping of my mouth,

Am I not speaking the same language, ma?

The fragrance I once enjoyed

Seems nothing but a pungent smell to me, now.

The same thoughts that let me fly,

Now hold me hostage.

They all tell me it’s a phase,

That it will pass.

That I’m too confident to be anxious,

Too verbose to withhold my own feelings,

Too outgoing to not socialize,

But it happens to me too.

I’m always anxious to say something,

Or when I meet somebody.

That I anticipate closure,

But flinch every single time I am somewhere near that point.

That I want honesty,

But do not have the audacity to look into someone’s eyes.

It is weird,Ma.

There is always a lullaby in my head,

But that keeps me up instead of letting me sleep.

They ask me to visit a professional,

Who’ll listen for the bucks I spend on them,

Not for the love they have towards me.

But Ma, I don’t know what to tell them.

I am drowning in the waves of water,

But only I’m not scared of depths.

I am choking on the words that echo pain,

But only I’m not even saying them aloud.

It is me I’m scared of,

I am not scared of dying, Ma.

I am scared of living.

I keep listening to you say you don’t understand what I am going through,

And that you’re sorry,

But Ma, don’t you see I don’t either and I’m sorry too.



By Anjana Kameswari

Read more texts by this author




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.