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Svetleena Choudhary

The past never creeps up on me.
I live, 
And relive
Each corner
I took.
And wonder,  
What would have been 
Had the wall not been there…
The past does not tell.
I gnaw at it with fingers raw with longing.
It denies me what’s mine.
“No heart”, I scream.

“No heart? And me?” says my past
“You must be out of your mind
Or soul
Or do you want me to lie?”
 “Those walls were never there
The corners you always assumed”
That heart you talk about most
Is the heart “you” never had……

The truth you want to hear
From me 
Runs deep within yourself.
“The truth is forever the destined 
Its destiny is to be denied
To merge with blood
Then appear to want to be called white”

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