Did you hear the sounds of waves hitting the solar plexus with a bite that smarted in pain? It belonged to a woman that stood watching two ravens on the ledge, in deep conversation such as they alone understood. The finality with which the crackle on the phone hit my heart and slowly bled, in anger and despair, I heard the cry rip through, course through my veins in a final flight, my heart did not break, it melted in the muffled sobs that shook my body the biting pressure of the shower pierced my back, a thousand needles and the pain, it stayed, not going away, it howled, it moaned, it keened, for, the biting slap had kissed the face of my soul. Words can kill and somewhere, that day, you did try to murder me. I rose, desperate, angry, defiant and rebellious, my mind screaming its war cry of never ever seeing you again, such was the pain you wrecked stabbing into my heart, I did not break, I bled away…faith is a funny thing, swear those who have it utterly and those who don’t. Paradoxes never quite comforted the normal, and I chose to be me. Not normal, standing out as I was meant to, own myself, accepting the anger as a shield. Much before anger came despair, my despair chased you; unable to clutch the man I had before, these were not the windows to your soul, these were not words of a language I understood. Frightened I was because I failed to stand on the corpses of my trials and to stand tall I failed. I questioned your reality and mine, dipping them in acid situations and wondering what answers might they be and it seemed to me your fears rode out in earnest speed, claiming a prize while the courage I charred under gave me back my strength. I let me be, gliding, souls refuse to give up they say, mine didn’t, unusual for my surprised mind to fathom how this could be.

I did not die.

© Sandhya Suri


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