where is my indian
is it in the way i don't use my palms as a medium to transport rice into the back of my mouth
is it in the way my face turns gloomy at the sight of spice and curry
is it in my skin color that isn't as brown as you need it to be
is it in my eyebrows which aren't as bushy as per your requirements

is it in the way my tongue twists awkwardly as i say happy diwali
is it in the way amma is the most fluent piece of tamil i speak
is it in the way i didn't know how to recite the words at my grandpas funeral
is it in the way i cannot, for the life of me, name you another tamil movie besides chandramukhi?

or

is it in the religious classes i took up until age 12
is it in the ramayana epic that i learnt, age 8
is it in the sanskrit bhajans i was made to sing, not knowing what they meant, age 10
is it in knowing that ganesh is the remover of obstacles,
brahma, vishnu, shiva - the creator, the preserver, the destroyer

is it in the eyeliner drawing a bindi in between my eyes when i
head to the temple, to present myself as indian

where is my indian
is it on a checklist, is there a passing mark?
where is my indian
please tell me,
because i am tired of feeling like a foreigner in my own skin

this morning i woke up
looked in the mirror
and i saw you

you're cold, aren't you?
tired, shivering
i look for your shadows
but where are they

everything is so dark
where did you go
you were right there

suddenly it is warm
the sun comes up
i turn back

where are you

there is light
all i see is a big yellow bulb
and rays; beaming with joy

suddenly the leaves rustle
a chill runs down my spine,

oh
welcome back,

my nightmare,
my other half

generation d
generation depressed bold, underlined, size 12, arial
generation death is no longer a want it's a need, look at the eyebags this education chose to breed
generation dizzy this tequila doesn't burn as much as your name on the tip of my tongue does
generation dish your depression jokes on a platter, serve it warm, cold, frozen - whatever makes you laugh goes, right?
generation dobby is not a ******* free elf

generation dopamine, because honestly, where the **** is mine

first,
you will try to recollect the way i smile
the lines that my eyes make and the light that shines through them
the way i squint when i try to read letters that are far too small
the different wavelengths of laughter
the sneaky one when the politician i voted for won against yours
the sarcastic one when i insult your favorite football team

then you will try to remember the way i ate
the mess i made when i tried to gather rice in my hands
the smile when all of you were not too happy about the mess

then you will remember when i stopped using my walking stick
and when it hurt to walk

then you will realize you can't remember if my favorite sarong is checkered or plain
if it was indigo or brown
was it silk, was it cotton?

then you will realize that the newspaper company you still subscribe to, in memory of me - has shut down
then you will realize my favorite tv show has aired its season finale, and they're not available online
then you will realize my optician no longer makes lenses to the glasses i used to wear
then you will realize the wooden chair i used to live in
has shattered


that is when,
you will take a step back


and i will be

nothing
but
a
faded
*memory

derived from the numbing shivers that start from the bottom of my spine, like electric waves
into the membrane of my skull, through the pores in my godforsaken skin
down to the infoldings of my brain, straight to the grey matter

a sensation felt by the heart, an emotion experienced by the body

a state of mind

I am the horror inside your head, I am the voice that keeps you awake at night. I am the reason you question your purpose and I am the reason your existence feels pointless. I am the tunnel that gushes thoughts of suicide into the membrane of your skull and I am the darkness that swallows your shadow and you. I am the melancholic music that accompanies your hums when your playlist is on pause, I am the dancer who holds your waist as you lay in bed screaming at 4 in the morning. I am your inability to look after yourself, I am the switch that flickers as you chop off all you hair, did you really think changing the way you look would change the way you feel? I am the sweat that trickles down your skin as you accidentally make eye contact with the girl down the road. I am the tremor in your fingers when your phone starts to ring. I am the air you can't seem to breathe in when you are surrounded by someone other than yourself, I am the lungs that treat oxygen like it is poison. I am the magnified noises in a sea of people, I am the stop button that speeds up movement around you, leaving you stranded with no time to blink. I am the reason your empty bed doesn't feel empty when you go to sleep alone. I am the denial you dwell in, I am the reluctance you feel in your chest. I am the fractured ray of hope and the fading glimmer of faith. I will rob you of everything that you have ever known and feed off your smile. I am the parasite that will leave you breathless. I am Depression. Meet my twin, Anxiety. Together, we're DnA.

pop the xanax
before dawn, they will turn their backs
pop the xanax
both hands behind your head, standing on the edge of the decks
pop the xanax
maybe if you try you'll figure out all the hacks
pop the xanax
what else tonight, dewars or shots of jacks
pop the xanax
don't keep telling me what my brain lacks
pop the xanax
what does it feels like to have dosages on max
pop the xanax
do you still try to forget, inhaling cigarette smoke by the packs
pop the xanax
you don't understand mother, my thoughts come from a buy one free one off the racks
pop the xanax
does it take your mind off everything, all that ***?
pop the xanax
my sadness shows up on time, always reminding that there's tax
pop the xanax
i tried to light up a candle to cast away the darkness but then it started to burn, all that wax

just pop the ******* xanax