My head hums the lovesong maa sang to me.
I feel the bile rising up my oesophagus and a pit
in my stomach, my throat burns and tastes of sulphur
as my hands unlock the gates.
The last time I had stepped inside that house,
it was still home when maa lived. but, it’s just another edifice of bricks and concrete
today, where my existence screams
of a wreckage past salvaging.
each splinter of my heart falling off the roof
is as light as tender filaments of a feather
swimming into the wind right before they hit the ground.
my words, smiles and tears succumbed to the egos of mortals
like thirty-six syllables stretched in a window pane.
my mother often searched for a home inside me but
little did she know I was titanic right before it hit the iceberg;
minutes away from drowning
taking everything and everyone along, wreathing into the abyss
of chilly waters, and cold-blooded ruins.
my head hums the lovesong maa sang to me
right before her words slipped into coma,
and I keep searching for the griefcase she left for me in heritance.
the sky today shares the same shade as lilacs
while grief sings ballads to me in silence
pirouetting over flawed fragments of smiles cracked
open at the corners of the mouth
smudged kohl and washed mascara are witness to
resurrected emotions.
I failed to love myself with my flaws as much
as I loved them for the same reasons; binaries of existences.
My head hums the lovesong maa sang to me
i still search for the griefcase she left for me in heritance.
