Invictus 2.0

By Ruma Chakraborty

https://youtu.be/cskCaB0PgoY

Each word hurled with loathing

hits home with precision.

Each invective makes a ragged hole

Blooming edges of raw red curls.

Each snaky glance drips venom

Leeching trails of burns.

Each unsaid slur weaves an angry braided welt

on the soul.

Each day the mask slips on-

Of a don’t- care attitude,

Of didn’t- hear-it demeanour,

Of it-wasn’t-meant-to hurt hope,

Of ostrich-in-the-sand denial,

Of get-on-with-it bravado.

Of? Of? Running out of options.

To coat over the hurt.

To underplay the damage.

To glue the scattered pieces.

All askew and shattered.

By Ruma Chakraborty