Poetry: Snigdha Agrawal

Snigdha Agrawal
Diminished

She died before my eyes bit by bit
Spirit stoned, hammered to small bits
Once fiery, uttered little 
Stonewalled for seeking truths
Emotions trampled
Mind bludgeoned
Soul crippled
in need of
help

help
arrived
bit too late
used to silence
vocal cords scissored
opportunities filtrated
fire in her extinguished
braided rope wick, charred till the end
wasted, lying abandoned in inky space
***


On The Brink

I
see
that I
don't know me
and it's killing me
drowning, squeezing,
drying my mind, taking all of me
leaving me in a state of flux
to live or give up this meaningless life,
standing on the periphery of me
I don't know
I don't love
***


Road Undiscovered

Through spiky bushes
brambles and thorns
walked so long
ignoring scratches, infections 
some developing pus
emitting obnoxious odours
had to move on
no question of giving up
no one would understand
nor emphasize?

Having hurdled over that
with little chance of roads
merging into mine
what road do I take from here? 
freeway, that I arrived on 
the road less travelled
or the road undiscovered yet?

Wondering where life will take me
curious to know 
which one will
release me 
from the pressure lid 
holding me down
for past decades
***


Cursed

in my hands
      blistered with shame
         I feel a burden
           being born a female

in my chest
       hooked on to shapewear
          I feel always constricted
            being born a female

in my womb
      there is life I don't want
         thrust by another's wrath
             girl after girl born

I feel the weight
      of my femininity every night
         like the earthen dirty muck
            carrier of soiled goods

I yearn for the weightless
      summer breezes
      body untucked, unpinned
      non-compartmentalized 
      gender undefined
***


Roiled
in your long pauses
    I feel like being thwacked in the face 
    like dark grey clouds
    just before it starts to rain

in your long pauses
     I feel like being examined
     my responses graded
     in a classroom full of students
       
in your long pauses
    I see the impotent rage
    just because you couldn't make it
    and so, I’m blamed
in your long pauses
    I see an image, that has only 
    a dark and blurred reflection
    of him, whom I know little
***

1 comment :

  1. Noticeable unique style of writing poetry! A mixture of varied thoughts!

    ReplyDelete

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