because i do not have an answer why

“tell me why?” i ask myself.
everynight. the wind roughens up
the skeletal pond. my roses have shriveled.
an upside-down moon eyes me
from across the room and
my pillow is a treasure-trove.
yet i have no answer.

“tell me why?” i bare my palms.
there are no more lines of blood for
this isn’t just melancholy. call me a fool.
the stars rumble, crash next-door in
chaotic splinters. and suddenly
my windows are throbbing alive,
tearing ferociously off themselves-

my world is numb.

everynight. i am the accused,
“you broke his heart” there is no hope
for a plea. my mouth is quinine and
there are monsters inside my head
and i have not a single
song to sing to me to sleep anymore.

i let the one man i ever loved go.

©Mohana Das


14 thoughts on “because i do not have an answer why

  1. So much pain. You have this gift of painting emotions with words. I feel like a broken record, but again, beautiful poem! It is beautiful beacuse you are an artist with words, and you make me feel something.

  2. Wonderfully dramatic — it reminds me almost of a older Chinese poetry in the vividness of the longer description and then the sudden punch line at the end–punch line isn’t the right word. I do not know enough about all kinds of traditions of poetry, but this fits into this wonderful lineage. k.

  3. Those long nights—only you can kill it; The monsters in your head—only you can conquer them. You employ quite a moody write today. The beginning was like telling about an insomniac condition but the latter part is suggesting a different turn. Smiles.

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