Here I Sit Poem by Amita Nowal

Here I sit, cold and wet
this breeze, drops of rain I look at.
Like shattering glasses, like broken photo frames
here I sit, crumpled in a corner of an open space.
Gazing somewhere in nowhere, sound of
unspoken words, caressing fingers in hair.
The sweet breath upon me, missing pieces of an unorganized
Mess, faint smile with tears in eyes,
Vague consciousness of unconsciousness.

Darkness of nowhere, shrillness of unspoken words,
Burning touch, the bitter breath, sadist laughter,
Swollen eyes, faint consciousness midst all
ruined is the mind, ruined is the heart.
Dripping blood on white sheets, with a body
And soul ready to burn in hearth.

Still missing are the pieces of the unorganized mess,
I lay here cold and wet, sobbing in shallowness.
Waiting in oblivion, for the fire to burn all those touch,
To famish the hunger of phallus, here hunkered
In the dungeon of filthy plunder.