i can't remember when i last heard your voice
and i need you to know that i miss you.
but i don't think the words alone are enough.

i miss you.

I MISS YOU LIKE A BLIND MAN'S BULLSEYE.

I MISS YOU THE WAY A POOR MAN MISSES A ROOF OVER HIS HEAD.

I MISS YOU LIKE THE RUMBLING IN HIS UNFED STOMACH.

I MISS YOU LIKE THE COLD ACHY SPACE IN THIS HALF-EMPTY BED.

I MISS YOU LIKE EVERY POEM I ALMOST WROTE BUT FORGOT ABOUT BEFORE I FOUND A PEN TO WRITE IT DOWN.

I MISS YOU LIKE A FORGOTTEN BIRTHDAY.

I MISS YOU THE WAY JANUARY MISSES GREEN.

I MISS YOU LIKE MY FATHER'S BEDTIME STORIES.

I MISS YOU LIKE THE LAST TRAIN HOME.

MY CHEST IS CAVING. MY LUNGS ARE SHRIVELING,
AND WITH MY LAST BREATH I WILL SCREAM
THROUGH SPACE AND TIME - I MISS YOU.

IT'S TRUE, WHAT ALL THOSE POETS SAY ABOUT THE SUN & MOON - THAT THEY ARE GOING TO KEEP CHASING EACH OTHER FOR ETERNITY, THAT THEY WILL NEVER KNOW ONE ANOTHER'S TOUCH. SO I AM SENDING UP VENDING-MACHINE PRAYERS TO A MAY-OR-MAY-NOT-BE-THERE GOD, BEGGING HIM TO CLOSE THE GAP BETWEEN YOUR FINGERS AND THE SPACES BETWEEN MINE.

- m.f.

and i did not conquer
the demons
that live inside my head
or the devils
that walk with me
i loved them instead

so i became obsessed with
joining those
i adore as my own ghost
the ethereal
the deathly is what
i dream of the most

now i have grown into
beautiful fantasies
of blood and eternal sleep
the desire to die
to free myself is the
greatest secret i keep

i slowly doubt the efficacy
of living and
breathing as others do
my lovely shadows
my best friends
i am coming to join you

*© Tara India.

A smile on her face
But tears in her eyes.
She wakes up every morning,
Hoping to die.
Kneeling on the floor;
Head raised to the sky.
Praying to God,
And asking Him why.
“Why am I here?
When can I leave?’
Remembering the days;
She used to believe.
Cracks show
On her porcelain façade.
She plays her part well,
But some days it’s hard
To put on a smile
And act like she’s fine.
Walks around laughing
As she tries not to cry.
Home from school,
Rocking under blankets
Eyes clenched shut.
Waiting for a day,
Where they’ll let her give up.
Day after day,
With her broken pride,
Her heart is still beating
But she isn't alive.
They’ll be a day
When her eyes won’t open
No cries heard
No words spoken;
Her act will end
The curtain will fall.
Frail and broken she’s given her all,
And as her life
Slowly goes
Her mournful story
Comes to a close.
They couldn't save her.
What went wrong?
Now it’s too late.
Her life is gone.