Language. - By Maisha Khan

Written By: Maisha Khan

Category: Poetry

Competition: Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the evocative poem "Language." by Maisha Khan, submitted to the Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, the author delves deep into the intricate relationship between grief and expression. This entry in the Poetry category reflects a profound exploration of how language attempts to encapsulate the ineffable nature of sorrow, a theme resonating with many. The competition celebrates emerging voices and showcases a wide array of creative talents, with Khan's submission standing out for its poignant narrative and emotional depth.

About the Work

Maisha Khan's "Language." is a poignant meditation on the inadequacy of words to truly capture the breadth of human grief. The poem artfully uses metaphor and linguistic imagery to convey the struggle between articulation and the raw, untamed nature of sorrow. Khan's work challenges the reader to reflect on the limitations of language, as it attempts to frame emotions that defy traditional expression. The mood is somber yet introspective, inviting readers to ponder the silent spaces that words often leave behind.

Language.

Original Submission by Maisha Khan

At first, I believed vocabulary could cauterize grief.

Could pin it beneath footnotes, classify it neatly

like a botanist pressing rot between archival pages.

I named sorrow with taxonomic precision:

melancholia, lacuna, bereavement.

How smug the tongue becomes

when it mistakes articulation for survival.

I wrote essays instead of eulogies.

Called my agony “an epistemological fracture,”

as though pain were merely a theorem

awaiting elegant refutation.

I stitched myself into subordinate clauses,

hung semicolons like rosaries from my throat,

and worshiped at the cathedral of diction.

Language-

that perfumed tyrant-

promised immortality through utterance.

But words are carnivorous things.

They consume the feeling, not preserve it.

Every sentence arrived embalmed.

Every metaphor sterilized the wound.

I said “I miss you”

when what I meant was:

there is a mausoleum growing in my ribcage

and each breath drags flowers across marble.

See?

Already ruined by translation.

I began noticing the treachery in grammar itself.

How every period behaves like abandonment.

How syntax insists there must be order

even while people vanish mid-conversation,

mid-kiss, mid-life.

English, especially-

that colonial little machine-

demands subjects and predicates,

demands coherence,

demands the heart stand upright while hemorrhaging.

But grief is not linear.

It does not conjugate correctly.

It stammers.

It corrodes.

It eats through language first.

So I kept writing.

Obsessively.

Like scraping a knife against a locked door.

Like if I found the perfect word-

the exact phonetic incision-

you might return from the dead of yourself.

I searched dictionaries like scripture.

Abyssal. Cathexis. Sepulchral.

I wrote ornate syllables

the way mourners wear black velvet

to disguise the shaking.

Yet every line miscarried meaning.

Because the truth was never academic.

The truth was ugly and humid and animal.

The truth was

I wanted to claw through your silence

with my bare teeth.

But academia has no citation format for that.

So the poem began collapsing.

First subtly.

Articles disappeared.

Then conjunctions loosened their grip.

Tenses bled into each other

until yesterday and forever became synonymous.

I stopped understanding

why language insists on sequence.

You left.

You leave.

You are always in the process of leaving.

And I-

No.

Wait.

The sentence keeps splintering.

I had something exact once.

Something crystalline.

A paragraph sharp enough to survive scrutiny.

Now every word feels secondhand.

Touched too many times by other mouths.

Even “love” has mildew on it.

Even “grief” sounds theatrical.

Even your name was-

no, no your name was-

was warm once

was staircase-light and cigarette dusk and

and gold, gold under fingernails, gold in the-

God.

See?

This is what happens.

Emotion exceeds its container.

The syntax frays first

then meaning

then-

I cannot keep the verbs upright anymore

You became untranslatable.

I became

less.

The mouth breaks before the heart does.

Remember when I said language could save us?

Lie. Lie dressed in dissertation robes.

There are feelings feral enough

to chew through every alphabet.

I am inside one now.

Look-

Look at the poem unraveling itself.

Look how the lines cannot carry-

how they buckle under-

how the words turn to static in my hands.

I want to say

I miss you.

But it comes out

wrong.

Comes out fractured-glass noise.

Comes out throat-blood.

Comes out

Come back

no-

come back-

come back.

Please.

The feeling is too large for language now

too large for grammar, for lungs,

for the little cages of sentence and structure and civilized sound-

I am trying to tell you

that when you left

everything became

not word,

not meaning,

not even silence.

Only this

raw animal sound

dragging itself

against the walls of my mouth.

Everything became static.

About the Competition

The Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar is a prestigious platform that encourages creative expression across various genres. It provides a unique opportunity for writers and poets to showcase their talents and share their voices with a broader audience. This competition is a celebration of creativity and innovation, highlighting the power of words to inspire and transform.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Maisha Khan for sharing "Language." with us in the Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Her evocative examination of grief and expression offers profound insights that resonate deeply. We appreciate her contribution and look forward to seeing more of her compelling work in the future.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.