Finding Myself In My Body: Reclaiming Pain
A house that is a warzone. A courtroom for custody battles. Dumping ground for other people’s pain. My body.
A house that is a warzone. A courtroom for custody battles. Dumping ground for other people’s pain. My body.
Feeling the tug between two places – one that feels like home and one that is dutifully home.
I have poems by old lovers,
not about me
not the loves,
not the poetry.
An ode to disappointing idols, to deified affections, to desecrated loyalties,
Finding peace in the domestic, finding poetry in the mundane
I’ve been in so many conversations. I’ve come back overflowing with so much. Then someone says hello and they pass.
A political poem about India’s many gods
Written for an Alphabet Sambar prompt: RAINBOW
I’m punk, you’re cheesy. And now I’m writing poems about your loving but you got there via the punks.
A glass of lemonade and a whole relationship dynamic in one swallow. It’s all ice shards and acid.