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An inward-looking poem about hurt and healing, by Sonali, exclusively for Different Truths.
Mountains melt and down it comes where we meet,
Struggling feet defend themselves from consuming into the abyss,
A dim yellow light always caresses my dark corner,
There I sit alone to hold my glass to drink.
Nectar doesn’t please me, rather the blues,
I have shored my boat in not the shallow ferry,
Where the lighthouse even thinks to allure its ridge,
Let me drink my fluorescent liquor, while you sleep in deep…
Down the lane, an old monk looking at me,
He doesn’t know, once my bloody love cut me into pieces,
Sitting beside the fireplace, I dressed myself to heal,
Those past years brought me calm and rest.
I soaked my dry eyes with the smoke of cannabis,
And I stood alone in the far edge of the Atacama,
Thinking of our journey, when we covered the oasis,
No more it was there once we parted further.
Photo from the Internet
