I live twice the minutes compressed into one


I live twice the minutes compressed into one 
and I take long strides, 
strategically pull my eyelids down 
let my eyes slide to the deserted side,
fast streets and faces pass like apparitions. I have no qualms 
until the life slows down. 
In crowded markets of the city, 
I am lost long before
mother told me to buy the groceries 
so I make up amusing stories, 
she believes them all, but never when I tell her to see 
my pounding heart operating my legs 
in ways that they flee from the rest of me, 

The road to the school scribbled in detours, 
in classrooms, well, there I am just too exposed, 
like the fresh batch of flowers 
afraid someone might pluck them off, 
you might ask why 
and my english teacher would reply “He’s just shy”. 
Perhaps if she saw me lit up like a Christmas tree, 
my body that folds 
like the ends of the shirt sleeve that meet 
she would disagree. 
I don’t get to rest in the drawer anyway, bad luck, 
there’s maths, then physics and I am already sick 
with cramps in my stomach, 
teacher please, don’t ask me to recite Ozymandias, 
don’t you see 
I am already dust from the inside, 
and you guys 
do not shout out my name, 
what’s the matter with you 
why do you all talk so loud? 
I’d melt away before your vanilla ice cream, 
let me imprison myself in your giggles 
but don’t burn my frail shell in the public eye, 
all my parts are tickled 
by strange gaze and stranger voices, 
one springs to the left, other to the right 
and rest walk clumsily 
back home to hide, 

When the city sleeps at night 
I whirl in worries, in hazy conversations yet to take place 
I author the play that is my future and grow my years in same loops
to turn at parties in college, my lips clasped too tight, 
I wonder, too little too much, what’s the duration of a perfect smile.
Soon the weather changes one floor above my eyesight, 
everything too loud and quiet at once, 
no one can hear, probably it’s music, 
but here, it’s noise,

my heartbeat parading its heavy foot all over my body 
“You too?”, in a slurry tone, they’d ask me. 
maybe, who knows. 
maybe my social anxiety is a perfect ecstasy
to those who peer inside,
but I think it won’t be, 

if I wore my mind outside.

3 comments:

  1. The way this poem is written, sort of... hurried(?) makes the reader feel anxious along with the poet.
    I loved it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I really connected with this poem! Loved the line 'what's the duration of a perfect smile'.
    Love how the poem moves through settings, I imagined a lot of the scenes in my head!
    Kudos! :)

    ReplyDelete

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