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Amruthavarshini Halugodu








#blackoutpoetry Version 2 •CHAOS• She was half asleep. His lips found her again and again (and again) / After so long, she was gone. It was a busy morning . The world was doing nothing .

(Poem below)

BUILDING FOUNTAIN OVER MY COFFIN BREATHE because those lungs won’t stay young for too long. they say the air is turning wild unfathomable humans have woven their magic. the surface seemed too unscathed too beastly with untamed splashes of stains all over wrong places. We have this problem you see, we want our presence felt at a place we have laid our body parts on and footprints are only but a temporary means to leave marks. They started with red. Too much of red within and hardly a streak outside, yeah sometimes a splash across the evening sky doesn’t count. So they found a way. Why not, in the name of a better life a better world a better god, play the game of cutting each other? There! Earth has been tainted and coloured now. Pieces of meat strewn around, oh look at the rivers. They won’t boast of purity now. Red. They like things red. It has a primal force that no green blue or brown of the world can match. Wait. No. Something is wrong. This doesn’t feel complete. Something is missing Something. Yes! Her skin is too clear and ego rampant. The rage and storm is brewing faster than the Harvey. Let us mark her. Leave imprints of naked fingers over her empty arms and unmarked legs, complete the artwork with cigarette butt marks at other places. There. Now you can breathe. What were you saying about the air? I know you haven’t slept more peacefully. LAUGH Spread your arms wide enough to contain all the happiness there is. You don’t find it easy these days. Fill every ounce of air there is within those alveoli and let the vocal cords do their magic. Inhale happiness and exhale laughter. *breathe in-breathe out* Don’t forget the eyes. I see them happy today. Moments, like these is what I live for. Just let the feral take over your body and Let the wolves know you are home. No no. Don’t stop because they are looking. They always do. I told you. Happiness doesn’t come easy here. Remind them of sunny oceans and warm cups of tea in monsoon of Christmas lights and fairy tales because Claws of hierarchy have gnawed into their arteries and the veins too, haven’t been spared. You see, they are hurting everywhere. Laugh and make them believe in piggyback rides and mistletoe kisses of tooth fairies and sheer old good luck. Let them see you laughter and burn on a pyre built on their altar because they are way too high on vodka to remember how it feels to have heart broken and skin sutured to have the ground crack open beneath bare feet and fall. But more importantly, they have forgotten to swat away dust from the back of their khakhi shorts and find their way away from the riot to set the world on fire. CRY because you are drowning. And what better place to hide those useless, unwelcoming tears Than under water. You think you own yourself? You are the masters of your fate? Your destiny? You think you decide what’ll happen to you? Think again. I will give you two seconds. *1-2* there. I just proved my point. I made you think, made you hear me out. Everyday you get up to the drumrolls of feminism, secularism, nationalism and the likes yet, every frequency of those sound waves hitting your eardrums doesn’t manage to make it’s home inside your skin. You still hope that the guy whose eyes your eyes met at the bar of your friend’s funeral would text you. You expect piercing bullets to not leave marks and trees to offer you shade when you have cut them all down. You expect the city to offer gold when all you have showered it with, are your whimsical tears. Go on. Let it fall. It’s the least of yourself you can give. Cry, because a woman is raped every 15 minutes. Cry, because someone’s dies on the road every 4 minutes. Cry, because 21 children under the age of 5 die every minute Cry, because we are meticulously killing humanity to silence the holocaust within but we forget that Hitler, was one of us. SCREAM Because reasoning is light years away and emotion is hot metal over wet tongue. You are made up of star dust yet you aren’t shining bright enough. Frantic nights spent over long distance phone calls and equal number of days of being sprawled over the atlas Making paper dreams and combustible promises won’t leave any mark. G strings and polaroids done right may seem like a bloody paradise but oh it is all a facade, so do not remain silent. i see the blazing inferno behind monkey masks and plastic laughs so Stop. Stop with the filters and the god forsaken hearts. You are an incomplete page of an incredible book And you need to scream out loud. Scream, till words are forced to leave the comfort of A4 sizes and dear diaries. Scream, till it is not monochrome everywhere and shops don’t just sell the bedsheets red. Scream, because your laughter has left the distorted shadows that haunt the roads you once called home and threaten to wipe away a little more. Scream, till every syllable that never left your mouth finds a pyre to burn off ambiguity and bring back hope into newspaper headlines and shadowed baggy eyes. Scream with every father, friend and daughter till their demons are murdered in their own nightmares and they find a corner to lay their head to rest. SCREAM BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T SHATTER THE SCREEN AND BREAK THE GLASS INTO BITS AND PIECES AND TURN IT INTO GALAXIES AND THEIR STARS/ IF YOU DON’T TEAR YOUR VOICE BOX BUT LEAVE THE STADIUM WITH A SILENT REMARK, you will go with fall leaves sans epitaph over your cold tombstone. Build a fountain over your coffin while you still can because tomorrow no one would be left to mourn.