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Sunday Morning Hues

·209 words·1 min·
Writings Poems
Author
Neel Chakraborty

I broke free on a Sunday morning
I put my flailing hands on the floor
Was in-between my steps out the exit door
And listened to my thawed heart let out a roar

As I stood on the roof, my eyes wide shut, as the morning poured
I heard the expired screams for help, etch a catalogue of scars
I heard monologues of self-declared love, for me and for you
I could feel death inside me hum the funeral choir

And then in a cavalcade of anger and fear
I traded swigs from a bottle of gin, distilled for unannounced departures,all bitter and clean
In a drunken haze, I declared momentary love for the living
I was sixteen years young, hurt my knuckles cleaning out my grieving catacomb
The taste of betrayal, rich on my tongue

I ducked behind the shadows of my self, when I saw flickers of the moon
Stitched myself to the leftover bleeding light, and stared at the pool
And down at the pool, I learnt a thing or two about my happenstance coup on my own self
In a moment of confused guilt, I tried to pray
That I will mend my ways
And walk the straight path to the end of my days

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