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Prathyusha Madhu
Grade XII GPS(I)
Prathyusha Madhu
Grade XII GPS(I)
I’m losing hope, lost in this sea
that is too vast for my body;
a vessel of my dreams.
sea froth washes onto my lips,
a hasty kiss, from the water nymphs
it is soft and sweet, it is everything I want to be.
they push me down under the wrecks and the
reefs and ask me to call it home-
the blue, the black, the green;
the empty cavities that don’t let me breathe.
I see the stars that hang from the sky,
a constant reminder of what I should be
but in this ocean that shape shifts,
I am nothing but the air I breathe
(I have no lungs, I have no dreams, there is no air
that I can breathe)
the stars live too far away and I am stuck
in sail boats that drowned too soon,
in stories the oysters keep
near the broken recording
of a heart that never beats.
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Bolts of fire shoot across,
like the power of Zeus I hold in these craters
caved so far below, the roots of my existence
scream- they bellow.
Every dust particle is glazed with drops
of the melting sun placed meticulously
beside shrivelled up wildflowers
with their taunting greens and cunning browns,
the only colours you will find
in my damned soul because
I float, suspended in the air,
with threads of hope to hang my body on.
I wear beauty and grace like accessories,
slipping it on slowly; carefully,
mindful of the unparalleled flaws that I foster
beneath these blue-green chemicals
intertwined with the emptiness of my helium lungs.
they beat alongside flickers of stars dancing in the sky,
the mother of life singing lullabies in hushed tones-
the sharps in waterfalls and bass in tornadoes.
She strings words from the
whispers of the wind and tells us
how beautiful it is to even exist.
This universe was made to be seen by our eyes;
the children of god, the souls stitched with gold
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