Kushal’s poem evokes confusion, fear, and defiant flight, defining this raw, unsettling urban moment where darkness and an unknown pursuer collide, for Different Truths.
“There's confusion.”
You tell the man trailing you
ever since the sweaty train
has dropped you at this filthy station.
Some plastic crackles
beneath his feet. You scream,
“I am not a woman of the street.”
He ebbs away, or so it seems.
Down the street, you run
as if the dogged darkness
chases you. Autumn strips
the trees. A faint, uncouth music
from some everything shop
dances in the breeze.
Illustration by the poet
By
By
By
By