Time and time again, you believe the filth your mind tells you.
Scouring the world for anything other than warmth
To fill the chasm inside.
You resist love, believing yourself to be unworthy of its flames.
But does frost not burn in its own way, too?
Walk the Earth once, twice, a thousand times,
Carrying your ribs in your arms, each engraved with
The name of your imprisonment.
Let the water of the seven oceans wash between your cartilage.
The salt of the Dead Sea doesn’t hurt your wounds the 999th time.
Blend in at the market, hiding your sorrow
At the 3.79/lb stalls of gifts from God, rotting with abandonment.
Go straight to the roots: The Earth knows their names
And sooner or later it will know yours.
Let the sun burn your skin.
Bask in the rays as you remember that love can be violent.
Eat.
To drown out the whimpers of your inner child.
To silence her cries and lie to her that you’re all grown up now.
-Mehak Khan
About the Poet-
Mehak Khan is a recent college graduate living in NYC with a Bachelor’s degree in Journalism. She enjoys taking long walks, exploring different cuisines, painting, and writing. Though she has wanted to get a cat for years, she has formed a special bond with her best friend’s cat, Soap.
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