broken pencils

i remember being 13

and full of rage

with

feelings i never found names for

and anxiety burning me 

from the pit of my stomach 

until all that’s left in me

are the nameless ugly feelings 

creeping into my trembling hands

i remember being 13 

and

breaking pencils with my trembling hands

my fingers clawing their way 

into ripping off my skin

trying to rescue myself from the nameless ugly feelings.

you told me i was your beautiful muse,

your beautiful broken muse.

that you wanted to immortalise me

but you kill me every day.

and i wonder every day how do you immortalise someone already dead

until the sting of the antiseptic 

on my ripped off skin

wakes me up 

and you tell me

to forget all of it

the way i forget a dream

wake up and let it fade away

you tell me 

forget it with the love between us

and i scream

it isn’t love between us

it is my worst nightmare.

and dreams fade but nightmares stay.

so, i remember being 13

but not innocence.

-Avni Jain

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