Dear Woe

By Keerthana K

Dear Woe,

You spoke not before you wrapped your hands around my throat,

And when you withdrew, your fingers left their prints on my neck.

It was a way of you to mark me as your territory—

To force me into wearing t-shirts whose necks come up to my chin,

To always live behind a cover and pretend like I chose what it would look like.

Your imprints have travelled down my neck and to the rest of my body,

And I do not want to be consumed like a cotton used as a torch.

I will burn down and blaze my way through,

But what if you were fireproof?

And as I am unable to extinguish you, I will stare you dead in the eye and realize it—

That despite the fact that you have been insufferable, you have stayed,

Even when my own conscience walked out the door.

You’d probably lift my chin up with a finger,

And proudly see the scars you caused.

Dear Woe,

I shall seethe at you till the end of our time,

And when that shall come—

May your stamps vanish from my skin.

By Keerthana K