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Mb Aug 2020
Everything that's broke
And the flower buds which bloom,
leave it to the breeze 💛
Everything that is broken or bleeding in human, the sorrow element of life and also the good side of life is represented by the flower buds which bloom. Even its broken or beautiful that doesn't matter as everything is left to nature. And go with the flow of life.
Kelsey Banerjee Jul 2020
sun dries my hair
thick and sopping with
dahi, coconut oil,
on the terrace
I peer into the endlessness
of all four directions and
the summer haze
does not halt my lack of
hesitation, inhibition.
lokhi hands release the robe and
I embrace the morning sun.
marty Jul 2020
how bad i wish skin was easier to cut, for bones to be easier to break, for blood to be easier to drain.
i realize it is pretty easy, as long as that’s what you desire, but still there’s something that’s holding me back from those desires.

once i’ve finally gave in to these desires i wonder what’s keeping me from cutting deeper. seeing blood flow is my current desire, yet i wonder why my wish won’t be granted, as all i see is a scratch. a simple scratch is not what i desired, yet it is all i’ve gotten so far. how deep into this endless rabbit hole must i go in in order to get what i want? at this point i ask myself wether this is my true desire or not.

in the third act i am back again. a new desire has made its way into my mind screaming and it is begging to be heard. merging with my soul, mind and body, i find myself as an hybrid of these desires that now compose my whole existence and guide my life. it does not revolve around me now, as it never should have been. even though crying is what my soul yearns for, my body won’t give in. it is as it wants me to grieve more and more, until I just give up and go one way or the other. it’s so loud, it hurts my head and my body is shaking. my lungs just can’t take it. I just need to let go, but I can’t and that’s even more painful than a blade running through my skin, cutting the tissue, craving to hit an artery, make it all stop, to enjoy that brief moment of euphoria where I beat everything that was holding me back and make it to my freedom. that sweet journey that took all I had and crushed every one of my hopes and dreams, that horrible journey that made me think there was a way out.

everyday i wake up to a reality that i’m not willing to face.
Kelsey Banerjee Jul 2020
two years
she plunges into frigid
waters.
do you remember
what they used to call us?

loved, maybe,
but only by those
who misunderstand it.

she waits
unshaven, unwashed,
exhausted
from her past,
for her future.
I'm currently offering readers a chance to read my upcoming poetry collection, Shy Anger. Send me a message if you are interested.
Kelsey Banerjee Jul 2020
we tried to bury the dead
clawing at memories
hard as beet roots,
garnet colocasia,
rotting,
manicured nails in caked film,
dirt and violet water
whimper séance spells
at our ankles -

I tried to listen
but did not understand -

were we burying sorrow,
or digging it up?
Kelsey Banerjee Jul 2020
you smear haldi,
groping the fish
like a beggar grasping at coin.
each fleshy slice
similar to tree rings
smothered in salt
and cast into the plastic
tuberware casket
blood still red near the bone.
already you fantasize
about every delectable dish
mustard seed on your tongue,
meanwhile, I stare at the eyes,
not queasy
but uncomfortable,
scales clinging to my shoes.
haldi is Hindi for turmeric. I learned to cook while in India, so much of my cooking vocab is actually not in English anymore. xD
Kelsey Banerjee Jul 2020
For want of you,
I shall not shy away
from even the crumbs
on your fingertips
even a single speck of
dust
if it brushes against your tenderness
is as sweet as nectar
against my lips
Arsala Jul 2020
You're the EVERYTHING i was made to believe was asking too much
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