I died once, did you know?
Slow, painful
The death of a thousand lost little girls
The death of trust
****** into my heart
a pain
a pain unlike any other
smothering, breaking, beating and bruised
wearing black and blue like a fashion statement
a police statement
in line up, I died again
His eyes, his eyes
his hands
the knife, the fist, the finger
The dead ringer for love
let the door open wide
he crept, he pushed
He haunts my hurting heart and
The tattoo of his fingers on my flesh
burns to life with every wave of thought
triggered by a careless friend
A living, lonely, dead end
A post traumatic stress disorder
Be careful, be quick, escape the memories
The sounds, the smells
The shadow
the shadow
this beating heart, provokes in kind
the yearning for a peaceful mind
but I was killed and so I died
I rest in pain and terrified
I live, I journey, I am killed again
Day onto day and hellish night into night
There is no grave, yet buried I became
Ten years yesterday
The devil
lingers on

I don't know what to do with my anger,
Or any of my
Emotions

Is it really a life, what you are living?
A slave to numbers and hate,
Turning your body into a machine,
A strange reflection of your turmoil
Tell me, is this really a life?

As you count your grapes into a bowl
Are you really feeling satisfied;
Or as you sit at home denying yourself
The pleasure of company,
Tell me, is this really a life?

Pounding feet matching the stutter
Of your heart, and the blood that
Runs sluggish in your skinny veins
As you run yourself into the ground;
Tell me, is this really a life?

Talking more to the voices inside
Your head than your old friends
Carving away at your skin;
Destroying what little of you is left
Tell me, is this really a life?

Or blindly chewing and swallowing,
Knowing you’ll hate yourself
But needing to feel, comfort is sought
In the numbness of food;
Tell me, is this really a life?

As the inevitable urge overtakes
When you’ve lost control:
You failed, you’re weak and now
As you bend over the toilet bowl
Tell me, is this really a life?

You never stop to think, well maybe
You dare not: you’re haunted
By the idea your time is wasted
So you are wasting yourself
Tell me, is this really a life?

*© Tara India

She barely lives yet she does
At the bottom of a bottle
A djini who softens the sharp edges of reality

She's barely romantic yet she is
This game of cat and mouse
I can never truly have her though she's here

She barely breathes yet she does
Her exhales are never the screams
That could loose the rafters of the world

She barely loves yet she does
It's hidden deep within her guise
A routine played so long she has forgotten how to play