I have no paragraphs for you, only poetry.
Leaky roof.
Creaky floorboards.
Ants marching across the kitchen table.
One light bulb out,
Another flickers,
And oh, the stove caught fire.
The toilet clogs weekly,
The bathtub is cracked and stained.
The cat bites when you forget to pet him,
And the fruit turns brown in a day.
Trauma cycles
the way the moon does.
Across time, across tides.
A new moon brings a new beginning.
A crescent moon, a sliver of hope.
A full moon—
Round to match another shiny black eye.
Circular, endless,
Experience and re-experience.
Because once the physical pain ends,
the emotional turmoil begins.
Insomnia when you are tired,
Nightmares when you finally fall asleep.
The moon becomes an eerie signal of nighttime,
Rather than a comforting light.
Fitting that the word trigger reminds me of a gun,
And PTSD is the bullet,
Burying itself deep inside the soul.
Just as the moon cycles eternally,
So
Does
The
Pain.
Indianness
Does not exist for your consumption.
A bindi
Is not a trend.
“Om namah shivaya”
is not a song to be sung acapella-style.
For that matter,
None of our mantras are for you to use ignorantly
as a way to explore your spirituality.
Not when your job is to push your whiteness upon others,
Not when your soul has been sold to the Catholic church.
How dare you make me feel like the outsider?
In a yoga class?
In my own brown skin?
My darkness is a badge of honor,
A reminder that my culture has existed much longer than your colonialism.
Please,
Leave us alone.
Leave our gods alone.
We have endured too much of your White Nonsense.
Shivasana.
Unclench,
Breathe deep,
Feel your shoulders relax.
Feel the earth against your back.
Feel the sweat dry on your brow.
Listen to your heartbeat slow,
Fill your lungs with air.
And Devi finally whispers,
Exhale,
Here is your moment of peace.
Pineapple Goddess.
Beautiful, golden, tart,
Unique.
Ever mysterious and stoic,
It takes persistence to get through your prickly outer skin—
But once someone does,
They realize how sweet you can be.
You add glowing, bright yellows
To a world of blue and grey.
You help me keep the anxiety at bay.
I never realized that you could have more than one soulmate in this world,
But I do:
A lover who holds me when its dark
And a Pineapple Goddess,
A sister who brings light.