Month: February 2025

Why do I become tone-deaf
to my own imagination?
And a lighthouse to
guide their wings forward.
I sit back and wonder
what would work for me?
Implosion, explosion, exorcism,
Qi wellness, herbal remedies,
gospels, temples, churches,
dopamine, serotonin,
sunlight or moonlight
It has to be somewhere.
The cure.
The cure for not torturing yourself
for weak memory, for recycled art,
for enhanced magical delusions,
for undiagnosed inflated ego.
It resides in me somewhere,
the dark matter of the universe
that makes me unrecognisable
like a flattened dime.
It is somewhere in me,
a really cool colourful crayon box
that loves to paint my bones,
or the walls of my exiled room.
It is there somewhere,
otherwise I’d have to admit.
I was born to create art.
I was born to torture my soul
until it becomes tone-deaf to art.

©kanikachugh

Will you come back and pick up your belongings lying breathless in your old room? Will you reclaim the home you once fled from? Will you pick up the ghost-leaf that rests on your window sill, a relic of the last autumn that passed without you?

Will you come back and pick up the dreams boxed-up under your bed? Will you pick up your nobody-self, who knew the real you, now that you are someone? Will you return for the last raindrop that stopped falling after you left? Will you pick up your old journal, the one you swore never to read?

Will you face it all, picking up the pieces of your former bronze self, now that you’ve become gold?