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Eek

By Abha Vaijnath


Can I eat with my hands? Does it bother you?

I hope you left your shoes out, you’d get mud all over the place

I know I did, I used the poorly built sidewalk and now my soles are covered in shit stains and rat carcass.


I’ve come from distant lands, this hurts, that hurts, that’s permanently damaged and oh you’re like unpeeled cabbage. You said “well I’m hiding the stab on the back” I said “show me!” instead you eek Eek eEk eeK it made my neck crack- unconsented was a kiss on the cheek, guess that’s when I’m supposed to eek BUT OH my god what would my mum think?!


It’s ok, my complexion hid the red, my skin’s got shades of the same colour you’d call a painting, truth is I ran out and made do with duller

oh but you don’t see colour and that deserves a standing ovation, but I’m colour blind? Ugh eek.

I’ve eaten so much bread this week, I might have a yeast infection.





You ask “why does your t-shirt say that?” it’s third world material oh but wouldn’t that be a great slogan? you eek eek eek eEk


Remember when you stepped on a book and I EEKED but now I use books as a ladder for my feet, how weak


Can I eat with my hands? Does it bother you? Ah no I don't eat meat, don't worry it wasn’t my choice, my religion insists.

The curry didn’t seep into the sabzi this time, I bought a bowl. I didn’t need to wash my hands this time, you gave me a spoon,

but it snagged my lip.



By Abha Vaijnath




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