September 24, 2014



there is a stone inside of me
that i cant break; choked by
a ball in my mouth
that i cant swallow 
cant spit out

my anger has flowed to the gutter
along with the vomit of 
the whiskey and undigested kolkata
my beauty is that of the coward man
contained in his boundaries
defending the indefensible 

the clock ticks one two three 
second by second
the muscles slacken from age
the bones bend 
reminding me of me
the day loosing its scent 
the brightness turning into stuporous amber

till one day when nothing is left
i am face to face  with the stone
i try to cut it out
but its chained to my heart

the clocks tick 
i breathe
nothing happens.