The Wet Void

By Kamakshi Sankhla

And once was a 'she' who sat on a chair

in a room that was dull and dim.

She had frizzy and curly brown hair

and all that she spoke was an age-old hymn.

Every time that she would be about to write,

tears would roll down her dark brown eyes,

and the dampened paper that would lie ahead,

would stare at her, lifeless.

Her thoughts would haunt her throughout the night

and her mornings would always lack light.

She would draw curtains on her windows all the time

and lock the door fearing outdoor crime.

Every day, she would look at the sheet.

The sheet, that was white and blank.

It had nothing except a title concrete.

The title, which said, "The Heart That Sank".

By Kamakshi Sankhla