Home by Narayani Goenka
Home
Narayani Goenka
I scratch the walls
till my nails break.. till the sound of the scratch sends an
unrelenting wave of anxiety through my body
till there is a forced call in me to stop.
I submerge my head in my bath tub full of water and count to 20,
then 50,
then as long as my limbs shake as if I'm caught in exorcism.
I gasp, not sure if another moment in it would mean if I have won
or lost.
Listen to me, I yell. My mind is trapped in a fog.
Maybe that is why when you look into my eyes, you can't see the
mess.
Even when I'm screaming loud enough to paralyse myself, you
don't hear me.
You think you know me but you don't.
We're right next to each other, still in different places.
How do I invite you in my mind?
A horrid place with spider webs,
ghosts hanging from walls, I'm running for help.
How do I tell you that this is my home?
That this is where I live?
That this is how I live?
More from Narayani Goenka ↓
- @star_lit_words on Instagram
- She is featured in Across Latitude & Language: World Poetry Anthology published by Delhi Poetry Slam
Mentioned in this episode:
Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only
Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.
