You, the boy with vampire tooth,

Is a hell flame sketching self portraits.

Your smile is fatal,

Deadly like a butcher’s knife.

It is dangerous, so are you.

You peel warm oranges under the sun,

Sweet on the tongue, mismatched to your heart.

You search baby breaths in evil forests,

and put them in the hangers

with the white pillow cases

drowned in salt water yesterday night.

You have a blue razor in your pocket,

Like a poetry with trigger warnings-

You know it will hurt,

but its beauty calls you.

You took your wisdom teeth away

And replace them with fangs,

Because one day you realized

world is not for innocent children.

You stapled flower in your gum

Waiting for a Cinderella’s kiss.

You giggled silently over the ashes of

The god your mother used to talk of,

Because now he is dead.

You ate chocolate muffins

but never made one,

because you don’t know how to create-

you only know how to savour and to destroy.

You once ate a red ruby

Foolishly thinking that it will make you valuable.

Then your father told you that

You are a boy and you are not supposed

To swallow rubies, but tears.

You searched for band aids alone

In the blue tiled bathroom cupboards

while everyone watched a movie and made jokes.

You are a frozen lemonade, without

a hint of sugary slush, but only

ice blocks unwanted and crushed in it.

You are a bohemian dreamcatcher,

forgotten in the window panes no one opens

since they have no one to wait for.

You are a tongue-tied lullaby

sitting cross legged on a dry throat

listening to the cry of a new born.

You toss over the patches of your smooth skin

to make covers to your favourite books.

You are a baker who bakes loaves of bread

With wheat stolen from a poor orphan and

 gift them your hunger, calling it kindness.

You think in plurals,- “we”-

even though you don’t know who

the other person is.

You are an Egyptian ghost

who cuts me open and

sew your name all over my body,

because you say you love me.

You say you don’t my pity,

nor my love, for you say that

I am a witch and

you are a turtle dove.

You make sure that my arms are never empty,

And put your head on them

enough to make them numb and oversleep.

And then you say that

we shouldn’t meet, even in the heaven

and that’s your birthday wish.

Like an Italian fish on a China set

I sit there,

Drowning, drowning.

 


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