What would I do if one fine morning I forgot who I was?
I’d sit and cry my heart out for my loveleless heart
Then slash my wrist
...
In busy city streets
I like to come across those old houses,
Paint peeled walls baring the intimacy of nestling bricks
Crumbling doors shutting out the world around
...
My love
My love, my love, my love, my love,
How the words trickle into my mouth,
...
What Would I Do If One Fine Morning I Forgot Who I Was?
What would I do if one fine morning I forgot who I was?
I’d sit and cry my heart out for my loveleless heart
Then slash my wrist
To drain my veins of that black, black blood
Sluggish with dark ancestral fears
Of class and caste
I’d gouge my eyes
So that I saw no poor, no rich
And beauty only in well ordered things
And rip off all that binds me like poisoned vine
My past, my thoughts, my loves, my hates.
And dying see the blue sky gather me in her arms
And feel my being well up to merge with hers.