local_library They buried me in the soil like I was someone else’s problem

by Sanah Singh

Published in Issue No. 287 ~ April, 2021

they buried me in the soil like i was someone else’s problem, while i was

choking on sandcastles that wouldn’t stand upright when i first made them as a child, my ghost

carried on living the rest of my existence for me in my own bedroom, she calls herself

denial and she wakes up in the same sheets i died in, she does everything

wrong and everyone believes everything she ever does, on the breakfast table

she holds herself like an apology stirring herself into a mush of soggy cornflakes, see

she says it makes her easier to swallow, in a room full of people where everyone talks

she is a question mark, her back arched into her table when she speaks

everything goes unanswered, to herself she sounds like ???????????

in a room full of no one, she presents herself like an open prayer book

legs spread apart, waiting for someone to take her in like gospel, but in front of the man

she wants to be anyone else, she holds my breath for me when he walks past her

and deep in the earth, i can feel my own heart disintegrating,

to a house with no room for her anymore, she is a funeral and her goodbyes sound like

a resurrection,

i swallow lumps of earth and she spits out a mountain rang.

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Sanah Singh is a nineteen-year-old, writer and law student from New Delhi, India.