shr_4.1
shr_4.1
shr_4.1
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Vinita Agrawal<br />
Hungry For A Hello<br />
This fat body is a lie<br />
True is the tub of buttered popcorn in my lap<br />
and the huge packet of chips by my side<br />
Its hunger is a lie<br />
My heart is the ravenous one<br />
I am adept at burrowing inside cracks<br />
when I spot lovelessness<br />
Skilled at living in between the floor boards<br />
when people walk over me<br />
I am a discarded umbilical cord crying for a foetus<br />
My screams ribbon unheard through eons of time<br />
My fat body is a lie<br />
You should see it from within<br />
It is lean like a new moon<br />
emaciated as the setting sun<br />
thin as hope in a beggar's eyes<br />
gaunt as the marrow in centenarian bones<br />
You can destroy me anytime<br />
with a loose word, an acid glance<br />
I'll come down like a house of cards<br />
at the slightest puff of acrid winds<br />
My bellows cannot light my fire<br />
nor my ankles weight lift, the shackles of disdain<br />
I cannot holler, I cannot stomp about<br />
For I am spindly like a new born doe<br />
You would see me as thin<br />
without the mess I am inside.<br />
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