Doorstep

 

someday,
we will all try
to write of the
valiant sorrows that
once engulfed us,only to find
nothing
remaining of them.

writing is
shedding,

not cleansing,
cleaning is
sanitizing, and
it cannot be
washed away

not bleeding,
the hurt cannot
be made visible
for the voyeurs
who continue
to prey,

but shedding
what we have
outgrown.

——

someday,
we will all try
to walk
away,

step
into the
beyond that
lies ourselves,
only to find
our footsteps
traced back,
to the same
threshold.

and it will
make us
wonder
if we
could ever
leave,

maybe,
walking is
remembering,

we don’t begin
or end,
we forget
and remember.

——-

someday,
we will all
find ourselves
immersed within
an arrogant totality
threatening to explode
on itself,
leaving behind
obscure fragments
to an obscured dream,
for the strangers
that may pass.

immersed
in the language
that must be unlearned,

but can we begin
to be quiet
if the nightmares
don’t let us sleep?

decapitated,
our feet
may refuse
to walk
any further,

our feet
may choose
to forget.

——–

someday,
we will all
find ourselves
shedding hesitant
tears over
all that
would’ve been
if it weren’t for
the inevitable
doorstep,

we cannot
walk outside
of what we
know,

if what we know
is what we
remember.

 

Words: Ananya

Edit: Sanjana Takru 

Illustration: Debasmita Das

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