Shell

By Doyel Bhattacharjee

I am convinced

I am not alive

Just a shell reminiscing

Lived only fleeting moments

Rest of me, made of memories

I am mourning

People who are still breathing

Endlessly churning

In this dilemma, seething

Clenched teeth, jaw aching

Anger, that is where grief begins

Friends and family

Foes foster

Grief is slow, unfortunately

The feelings escaping through the sifter

I watch the marching band approach me

Denial ringing in deaf ears

I persist through

The reckless eulogies

The casket is too heavy

The air damp and weary

Crushed hail raining

Knees sinking in damp soil

I am kneeling, bargaining

This repression is straining

Choking, momentary

And then empty drowning

In pools of black ink swirling

Depression in stark

Grief is burning

Burning fire

Frozen ground

Shining stars, meant to astound

Flourishing ferver, forever frowned

Acceptance is rage's rebound

I am convinced

I am not alive

Just a shell of a human

Hoping to rewind

To the memories of moments, fleeting

Hands not holding, always reaching

By Doyel Bhattacharjee