healing – avni jain

i had a dream by Avni Jain

i had a dream i was rolling down mountain grass like i did at 9

i let the same wind take me like it did when i was 7

things don’t seem

as wide

as endless

as infinite

the way they did at 13

because i can’t flow with the wind anymore

breathing seems heavier than usual

the ruins of eating disorder are building themselves up again

and this time they seem invicible once again

a grey cloud overcasts my brain

my heart so deprived of warmth

and i know this feeling too well to feel it all over again.

i sometimes wish i never left that walled city of darkness

because im hitting curbs and everything along the way to not take that path anymore

but the city calls for me.

the city feels like a home to me.

the city strips me of my desire to make any effort

to smile

to eat

to breathe

dreaming of a way out seems like that one blinking nightlight without any spot of blood on it

but dreaming of a world unknown in this ill built walled city seems so scary

because that’s what led me here the first time.

and im afraid

the blinking nightlight would soon extinguish too.

-Avni Jain

you say you love me by Avni Jain

you say you love me then why do you make me feel so starved for love

you say love me but i dont see that love in the look of disgust you throw at me

you say love me but your words become blades severing every fragile wall i built

you say you love me but im scared because beauty starts decaying once it starts belonging.

you say you love me but your name is burnt into my skin and i smell of smoke and dying flesh on my way back home.

you say you love me and i feel like a lovesick fool around you but i feel walls creeping up on me the way your hands did as soon as i reach home.

it fills my entire room until i can’t move any longer

until i pick up the blade to return to my body.

my pysche cries a war on my body because

i have been trying recover lost time and all i can remembers is your hollow i love yous.

the next time you tell me you love me,

i wouldn’t say i don’t believe it.

i would say i want to.

-Avni Jain

i don’t stay long enough

i don’t stay long enough to hear the applause

mainly because i feel like i don’t deserve it

i don’t stay long enough to be loved

letters from lost lovers lie strangled in mess of my mind

i don’t dare to open them

for im scared of all the missed love stories

i move through people’s lives like a drift

i don’t like the ways they’ve looked at me.

the ways they’ve perceived me.

i don’t know when i turn transform from a person to a concept

a figment of their ideas.

i run back to my home reducing everything into a metaphor

;

they asked me where do i want to be in the next 5 years

i want to have an exit door

i want a little extra space

i want the little spaces between the boxes to breathe

to flow into

i want to run as i fast i can

i want to breathe in a land beyond the four walls

i want the strength to push these walls when they creep onto me

when every metaphor i write comes crumbling down into the ugly truth it was

when no artistry can aid the blood dripping over the same four walls;

when i can’t separate my breath and smoke anymore

i need the strength.

the power

to stay.

to fight back.

-Avni Jain

ghosts that reside in my body

i. trauma

my trauma resides in my vocal cord

stealing and burying every cry for help

it strangles my throat with the hands i didn’t give it.

i’ve painted my tongue with

crushed blueberries and strawberries

sugarcoated it

with words people want to hear.

ii. the little girl i once was

the little girl i once was

wanted a home

needed a home

begged for a home

as i prisoned her in my ribcage

her wounded soul still fights

everyday

because

she wanted an eternal life

and i gave her an eternity of misery

in the shackles of my brain.

iii. person i am

my brain kills the person i am everyday

she bleeds all over the floor

she holds the little girl’s hands

because

she knows

she’s the only one who can save her

she begs her to return

but

the blood

the terror

isn’t her home.

iv. faces i’ve worn

my mind feels like a maze im trying to escape

i see faces lying there.

faces i wore and threw over the years.

for all i knew at this point was,

these faces aren’t mine.

v. fear and anxiety

they reside in my heart

clutching onto it

like an

ill fitted dress

whenever

grief reveals its repeated patterns.

they burn my heart

until theres nothing but

ashes all over me.

vi. people i’ve loved and lost

the ghosts of people i’ve loved and lost

reside in my veins

and haunt me

every night

in my sleep.

vii. grief

grief holds my legs

stops me from feeling the beat of the music

makes me hate the world

without music.

after i escaped hell by Avni Jain

after i escaped hell

my fingers didn’t feel soft enough,

my voice didn’t feel sweet enough

i had camphor all over my feet,

but my soul felt free;

from chains you imprisoned me in.

i didn’t realise when holding your hands,

chained my soul.

when loving you

turned into the poison i kept treasuring

in the jewel of my heart.

it poisoned my heart

till

my own heartbeat was unsettling;

and even on my deathbed,

i wanted you to whole my hand

and

palliate my heart.

for love is stronger than death,

and i want to lay under the lush green grass and soft brown earth,

knowing

the melody of my heartbeat.

my blood is in your hands,
i wonder
i wonder how could you love someone
but still live w the sight of their blood on your hands.
and i sit in the hospital
at 2 am
alone
wailing
wondering
questioning
and i try
i try to piece all together
and i blame it all on myself
because in this sick twisted tale of ours, i never learnt to blame you.
and each day we get up put our masks on
with a smile so bright and eyes sparkling glitter and im scared
im scared masks have gripped onto our skins too tight and we’ll rip out our skins trying to pull them out
even when i try to get rid of this mask, they tell me,
they tell me,
stop whining
you are not a child anymore you understand
he is a good man
he must be stressed out
he must be drunk
but how do i tell them
that doesn’t justify your actions that shouldn’t justify your actions. and i don’t owe anything to you how do i tell this to myself?
when i love you.
so much.
but, well, if it’s love,
why is it so messed up?

next day
you come to me
apologize
tell me
you didn’t mean it and would never do anything to hurt me again. and i believed
i believed and i waited
waited till you forget this
and
hurt me again
the next time followed the same story your one step forward
my one step backwards
your eyes filled with rage
as if
you could kill me any next moment
your hands clinching into a fist
my breaths turning faster and faster every moment
you don’t owe him anything
you don’t owe him anything
i kept muttering this in silence
my head starts echoing
until
i take a step forward
i take a step forward
hold your hand
push you away
and run away as fast as i could
you grasped my hair
the one thing you told me you loved the most about me you grasped them
pulled me backwards
threw me
shove me into a wall
as if i were nothing
you are stronger than him
my head echoes with these words
my heart filled w the very rage that was once love for you until
i hit back

and then run
even when i could have fought back harder but
i knew
i still loved you.
so much.
-Avni Jain

𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙.

𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚

you are a canvas full of colour,

your body is a shrine,

you like the first drop of rain touching earth,

you make music out of me when you play with my hair,

you touched me without even touching me,

you voice made me feel safe as you cupped me in the blanket: your skin.

you are the love at first remembrance.

~𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙞 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪.

𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩

on the last day of love,

i walked through the windy night

and let the same wind take my happy poem from me,

i drew the curtains of my room,

i closed every entrance,

i confined myself into the attic,

my psyche cried a war on the very skin i live in,

the memories bury me alive,

i dug the earth deeper,

walking through it,

the peace in my heart

felt like walking in a library after dark,

the chaos in my mind

felt like walking on the thorns of roses you gave me.

with every step on thorn,

my mind wrote a letter to you,

saying

“𝙞’𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚.”

𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠

i drew out those curtains,

i let the broken pieces,

i tried to stick together in fragile unity;

𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠.

𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡

i drew out those curtains,

the light entering my room

felt like sunlit honey,

the peace around me

felt like the calm at the sea,

the voices in my head

didn’t echo anymore.

i let myself out of the attic

i confined myself into.

i felt free from the war my soul broke onto the skin i lived in.

as i panegyrise about this pain,

my head echoes once again,

“𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪?”

-A.