Shredding

The pain is gruesome as I split in two

between the red moon and sunrise.

How the salt spray settles on my face,

as I tear the sand and stand by the sea—

The seagull’s laughter echoes,

leaving me less whole

than waves could ever wash away.

The skyline of Mumbai watches,

a silhouette carved in steel and noise.

I changed the roses in the vase.

They are sad, too sad to even look at.

Grief claws at me—

I’ve touched skins I couldn’t forget.

I sit among jagged shards,

the floor so chill, the shower running in disbelief.

The seagull’s laugh still echoes in me,

a haunting trace of what remains.

Terrorized and torn, my spirit’s guard down.

Each thought I have, a futile streak.

My heart weeps in inescapable pain,

watching as my methods stand still,

and a different persona inks my blood.

I died a little inside every day.

I stood drained, watching

the lighthouse beam direct the lost ships

further into the endless abyss, where I am free.