Saturday, December 11, 2010

A disturbing poem.

When I write
it’s vaguely amusing
to know
that you still
live inside me
like a sick, fat

Eating what I eat
digesting what I digest
breathing, growing
on mucus
and darkness.

You have grown
like a poisonous
inside my chest.
Stunted branches
pushing their
annoying fruits
into my flesh.

And honestly,

it fails to amuse me

after a while.


Elendil said...

Er, Anu, the poem is in some weird Webdings type font.

Anoo. said...

I just realised that. Very disturbing, indeed.


Elendil said...

I like. Tomar lekha?

Anoo. said...

1. Thank you :)
2. Amar, yes.
3. "tomar"?!!!