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Prodhi Manisha
Poems
Mar 2014
Untitled
“Trust you to trust
Someone like me,” she bites back
Her eyes glaring with a hollow where her faith in herself
Should’ve been. If she were a god
She’d be an atheist.
“I don’t see myself
Being anywhere but here with you.”
Silly, silly boy who’d put her on a pedestal so high even she
Couldn’t climb it. If she were a god
He’d be a fanatic.
“I’ll do you nothing
But harm. You’ll be covered in scars
By the time I’m done with you.” Worthless. She felt worthless
She wished she could make him
Happy. She can’t. Never.
He took his arm and
Brushed it against a sharp edge, blood
Dripping relentlessly. She gasped, “What the ****? You– are you
Suicidal? Because even I’m not
That ****** up, seriously.”
He chuckled dryly, stepped
Towards her, smearing blood on the sleeve
Of her wedding dress. The warm breath on her reeked of sincerity
For once. “Trust me,” he whispered,
“You’re worth suffering for.”
Written by
Prodhi Manisha
United States
(United States)
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