burnt garlic goes well with cheese and if you try hard enough
you can let go of your past. maybe?
men are so annoying sometimes,
and then they hold your hand
and tell you that they love you.
what’s the difference between you and your shadow?
the shadow never leaves.
a tailor ruined my new pair of jeans yesterday,
and I cried for thirteen minutes
until I saw two cats kissing each other down the street.
there’s no point in this life.
I know pain and grief but I also know a guy whose heart I ripped apart with my bare hands.
these hands are capable of ruining kingdoms.
I could never learn how to use chopsticks,
and I avoid confrontations–
life is easier without both.
extremists are the cause of one-third of my migraines.
a person I know asked me to not be a rebel. but
my body has been to war
and I only know how to battle.
there’s uncertainty from the moment I wake up.
I don’t know what to wear to work,
who to love or what to eat.
to be, or not to be?
I don’t know if I should be a rebel for this country that’s dying a slow death,
or for a sweet guy’s love who makes me coffee and bread.
I’ve mastered the art of hurting everyone that comes too close to me,
my bones haven’t been loved,
don’t ask me to stay because
being abandoned is so much like running a marathon,
you want to keep running but also want to win,
you want to run and you want to win.
what the fuck is this mess?
I am dying for you to not go
but I’m dying to not leave you first.
Saheen Rahman is a writer and a communication student currently pursuing her post-graduation degree. She finds beauty in monotony and in run-of-the-mill things. She wants her work to be a voice of rebellion, a sword for change, and a lifeboat to save someone else from drowning. Her work has been earlier published in Alipore Post, Poems India, The Blahcksheep, Terribly Tiny Tales, and Indian Sahitya Akademi.