Clutter in my head distraught
You laugh over confrontations
Piece of shit, you looked away
Now cholera in your intestines
You bellow in pain and I call doc
You shout at me for negativity
I see you cry, “Oh, what do I do?”
“Stop being abnormal,” you tell me
I hear your agony and steel myself up
Take a suitcase and go to school
No one else has a wall 12-feet high
You tell me, “The weird one is the fool.”
I gag at the mirror, the ugly sight
You tell me I chose to look like this
There’s cholera trying to stick to me
I scream, you shout back for negativity
I call the doc, for myself not you
Medicines you curse for eternity
“The sick is the crazy”, you establish forthright
Betrayal in taunts; I’m less than me
Cruelty of existence, you and I
You close your eyes, think wrongs fade away?
I was born a seer, my sight never dark
Red is the colour of night and day
Shameless youth with heads on necks
Blame you for the curse you did not refuse
How could you try to look into it?
The smart should ignore all negative truths
But smartness expires and so does age
Cholera is cancer and youth is rage
The pain brought us to shitty death’s door
Politely you ask to not sit the floor
I ask again, “Mother, let’s call doc?
Humans are fragile, we may lose her”
You tell me, “We can’t, humans don’t do
anything that deals with pessimism flu.”
Fed up this time, I tear down the curtains
Years of fuckery now visible in daylight
She writhes of cancerous pain in the bed
You tell me, “Leave her in peace, she may leave anytime!”
I sit by myself with my head in my palms
The fuckery is the shit and cholera in your gut
You tell me to do whatever with the info
I want to heal my family, but Nani quietens forever.
– Aru Shan (01.04.2023)
P.S. – My contribution for #GloPoWriMo 2023 (Global Poetry Writing Month);
Nani = Maternal Grandma
Aru Shan 