What You Kill, Kills You- Sohini Chatterjee

At ten past two at night I push sorrow out of ashen tongue, cigarette burnt lips, stained sweater of blood, injury and sweat, and spell T.R.A.U.M.A in hundred different ways. The mother commands homicide of naked blisters and turgid wounds before the stench of guilt reaches the shore and screams breathless; I acquiesce. Now every … Continue reading What You Kill, Kills You- Sohini Chatterjee

Digging

Matthew Eayre/Uneven Streets Studio

unevenstreetstudiosdotcom

I keep digging in my ears trying to stop this feeling of lost dreams burrowing into my eardrums, I have aches in my neck from sadness that passed twenty years ago but the ache in my neck keeps coming back, a little nudge from my consciousness that, yes, those things happened, yes, you were abused and neglected and perverted and used, yes, you were misunderstood and mistaken, misguided and malnourished spiritually, yes, you did see it coming, all the pain, when nobody could understand why you were so sad, why you wanted to end your life before it started, yes it was the truth, you saw all the hurt waiting for you and could not articulate it in a meaningful way.
I feel my toes being pinched when I hear words that hurt, my toes being pushed against the wooden railing of an old couch as I received wire-coat-hanger discipline…

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