Consumed

by Aakriti Kuntal

When I was naive, I took words out of books
Carved them on my hands and blinked
( ink wandering between palm lines
notions settling in my vertebrae )
‘ All Indians are my brothers and sisters ‘
It said in those patchy hardcover books
that smelled of promise and goodness

As I started to grow, my limbs defying gravity,
my voice gathering like splinters,
Fingers tingling
As I started to grow, I also began to shed
HEAVILY
My bosom somehow began to offend, by mere existence,
the existence of some fellow brothers
My voice split like cracks in white ceilings
where the spider crawled and chose to mock…

Continue Reading: Consumed