by Trishala Vardhan

 

once

i was a lion-cub

in the lap

of my country –

 

 

i was so sure

i knew what i wanted.

 

i was so sure

i ruled the world.

 

 

these days,

i can barely understand it.

 

these days,

i keep my claws

hidden,

soap-suds salting

my skin,

tap-water trauma

collecting

on my

collarbones.

 

 

i was so sure

i knew my place in the light.

 

i was so sure

of my roar:

its red red ricochet

under the sun.

 

 

these days,

i can hardly hear my own heartbeat.

 

these days,

i can barely make myself breathe.

 

 

 

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Trishala is a 25-year-old Asian Indian who has lived in the lap of language for as long as she can remember. She believes in precious little save the gravity of grief, love, and memory. Words (and the silences that serve and surround them) have always been her way of life. She is on Twitter @sinsofsekhmet.