Sometimes,
I want to hide behind a rock.
A rock with moss;
That sprouts from my tears,
Kept upon the sand
Of things that I lost.
Hidden in a labyrinth
Of missed chances.
The rock will be my home,
Until I am ready to come out
To the world where you
Have to wipe your tears,
And brush the sand,
And rocks are of glass
That are easily broken.
Sometimes, I
Want to disappear
In a ceaseless quiet
Of a place beneath my mind;
Under the hurricane
Where tranquil water lies,
Where sunken ships resurface,
And lost soldiers find
A place where they belong.
Paakhi Bhatnagar is a student from India and an avid reader of historical fiction. She is a passionate feminist and blogs about current politics and feminist issues. She is ardently pro-choice and possesses the uncanny ability of turning everything into a debate.
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