The Glass Bangle

Being a Woman

Broken

Her eyes looked blankly at the world

the matted hair told a story of despair

Her cracked and mud-caked feet

Searched in vain for the way home.

 

Her mind loved to wander,

and always ended up in her mother’s room

Her nose twitched to inhale

the comforting scent of perfumes and silks.

 

Her mouth puckered in memory of

the sweet tartness of tamarind

Stored in huge white ceramic pots

in the coolness of dark cellars.

 

Her body cringed in horror

at the thought of that darkness

Her body and soul stripped bare

and trampled into the damp earth.

 

Her breath came in broken gasps

when her memories remorselessly took her

Back to those horrifying days of

feral whispers and greedy hands.

 

She quickly grabbed her mind

she hated it and its eagerness

To travel into a past of sunlight

and unbearable darkness of the soul.

 

She crumpled it and beat it down

and retreated quickly

Behind her wall of insanity,

the only way she could escape.

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6 comments on “Broken

  1. adsunsri
    October 10, 2015

    Beautiful…could picturize the character and her mother’s room with the perfumes..

    Liked by 1 person

    • The Glass Bangle
      October 10, 2015

      That room is a warm comforting room and one she never wants to come out of.
      Thank you for dropping in adsunsri 🙂

      Like

  2. ijuihjas8
    October 9, 2015

    Broken 😥

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sid Balachandran
    October 9, 2015

    *standing ovation*

    A very powerful piece, Anju. Well done!

    Liked by 1 person

    • The Glass Bangle
      October 9, 2015

      Wow ! Let me get my head down from the ceiling 🙂
      On a serious note, this poem has left its mark on me and I took some time to get back on an even keel.

      Like

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This entry was posted on October 8, 2015 by in Insanity, life, Memories, Mind, Mother, Poetry, Thoughts, women and tagged , , , , , , , .
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