A Million Miles Ahead or a Momentary Spell?


P O E T R Y


Niha Zahan


Tell me a little something

of things that broke me

Tell me where it goes

To the north or south

A right or a left

A million miles ahead

Or a momentary spell?

From this God-forsaken bed

From the holes in my hand,

From the black hole

Of my noteworthy vein,

The blood has to be examined

It tells me about the misjudgment

My mind and body did

All these years

It tells me about the adjustment

My mind and body did

To dodge their hammers

But the antibiotics

That entered my bloodstream

Arguing with my misplaced heartbeats,

Spoke words to my woebegone mind

“You should’ve saved yourself.”

Maybe it referred to their hammers.

That once broke my connection

To myself

Maybe it referred to those simple things.

Things I let myself drown in

To swallow the conviction

Of my freedom breath,

Will these medicines affect?

My long-awaited end

Where I am proud of myself

Where I have a connection with myself

With these overpowering effects

My swollen face resembles

my departed granted faith

For everything

The shrinkage of my bones

Resemble the cloudy vision

When I tried to see myself,

Half of my hair from my head

I see them beside my feet.

Resemble my first goldfish

I just let it die.

The blur in my vision

Resembles the planning I had

Planning teenagers do

The affliction in my blood

Resemble the motivational lines

I told myself, but never worked.

Tell me a little something

Tell me where it goes

Because I don’t see where

Anymore.

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