—on a promise of drenching my fingers in paint

Sakhi Singh, India

My heart is stained with morning dew,
the grass beneath my feet is overgrown.
I play with the edges of my skirt,
tired and softer.
I see the world bursting in crimson pinks and golden blues
I wonder if my wilting brown would ever blend in.

Yesterday's grief still lingers in the air,
and I wonder if love is indeed my breakfast left cold.
Sadness too looks darker, yet the air looks incomplete without.
The tinge of grey and the careful spill of black,
the lavender and the lilies
all sit before me like one.
I wonder if I can truly do without the crude maps of the years making my torso,
for every scar on my body still points upwards.

The sky blushes above me,
I believe that the dark and light do kiss in forlorn corners with dewy greens and concrete barks.
Maybe I won't be lost in the fog anymore,
maybe it won't seep into the hollows among my bones,
those in the shapes of the people I once loved,
mine being the most prominent.

The clock is still ticking,
maybe its quiet rhythm will teach me to warm my feet against the fire
without the urge to rush against it.
Yes, today I'll enjoy the silence of this breeze,
immersing myself in color.
Today, I'll let my fingers paint my own sky
and I'll relish, I'll relish, I'll relish every bit of it.

Sakhi Singh is a 19 year old writer from Delhi, currently pursuing English hons from Miranda House, Delhi University. Her first book titled, "Affected Admiration" came out in February 2019. She has been a part of a number of poetry anthologies every since. She hopes to bring a change or at least make one person feel at home through her words.