Fallen in the abyss

I cannot hold

The power of truth.

My eardrums torn,

Unable to hear 

The thud-thuds

And cack-cackles

Of your people’s world.

My tongue, tasting

Flavours of your

Unwanted love

All bitter and prickly.

Hands wring

As you come near,

Trying to shoo you

And your slimy smile 


My body, now a stone

Corroded by many years 

Of your lusty red ants,

Unapologetically taking 

Advantage to hoard for

Their unusual hunger.

My mind racing

Beyond your chequered 

Black and white dreams

Of a small house

And late afternoon movie binges.

Your idea of calm.

Just as you talk,

So as I pretend

To listen.

I’m almost at the world’s end,

Making swings on the crescent

My feet splashing the milky ocean

That your oh-so-normal eyes

Can’t see, why,

They can’t even


I’m hanging in mid-air

With neptunes and saturns 

Pirouetting on my hands

Smiling at your cute face

As you offer me

Generously, that I can continue

To work even after 

You chain me with wedlock,

As if I was born, only 

After you permitted me to.

Well, it’s been my routine 

During ‘my’ days of the month

To dip myself

In the molten core 

Of the morning star.

The same day 

You joked about 

Mood swings and 


Now no more.

I bet you know yourself

What a matchbox life 

You live.

As my long shut

Third eye opens

Like the dancing snake-clad 

Mad man,

I pour some of the sizzling 

Amber into your matchbox,

Watch you blister and burn

With the poison 

Concocted from my throat.

Ashes remain of you

That I smear on my body

As marks of my independence.

I dance.

I dance.

I dance.

Tremors and tides building up.

The third eye, now 

Shows me a reflection.

I could see

On the other side

Another woman, red eyes

Long hair with a trident held,

Dancing as I do.

The Mad man

Watching her in half-fear 

And half-adoration,

“The Goddess!”, he proclaimed

I turned to look at him

At my feet 

I, now knowingly, said,

“Yes, I am.”