By Ankita Kolhe
Pushing me over the edge, pushing me over
Relieves you?
Do it.
Push me.
Edges have always given me ecstasy.
In falling, there is certainty.
I can see the ravine from here.
It's as far as I go.
But you? O you!
The depths of despair you'll reach
You'll never, ever know.
Kiss me goodbye, though.
Not on my brow
On my lips.
Never gentle, fierce as always
Choking in blood
Our usual menace.
In life, you spared nothing of me
In death too, I want to see the measure of
Your Psychopathy.
Shying away?
Why now?
See how I smile ear to ear
Earnest too, you know.
Slashed wrists
And blood-stained inner thighs
Are deeply ingrained in my not-so-soft cries.
Do you remember the day you proposed to me?
In slanted summers and violin strings?
I gave you my mind, body and spirit.
Of which now,
Mind, sick and twisted
Body, chastised
Spirits—nothing to say there.
To me, beautiful still are nightmares.
Come on now-
There is no shame in killing me.
What's a barren soul to do in
A lifeless body split in two?
I will not fight, you know.
I probably should,
But there's not enough fight left in me.
At least not the kind that are
Timestamps to your tyranny.