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.