Showing posts with label borderline. Show all posts
Showing posts with label borderline. Show all posts

10/2/16

Walking Around With A Broken Umbrella - Noor Hindi

Because sneezing my emotions onto the fibers of your
Kleenex isn’t working, I’ve spent my days punching

mailboxes, and taking victory laps around childhood
graveyards. I know you think I resemble a Sour Patch

Kid, that my thoughts are just silly string. Maybe my
brain twitches too much and maybe I was born inside

of a teardrop. I’m all passion. But to me, you are the sun
and I’m hanging my thoughts on a clothesline for you.

If I told you to disentangle our straw house, if I told you
that I feel like a puddle that is gliding towards a sewer,

what would you say? If I asked you to set fire to the world
using only the warmth of our hands, would you do it?

                                                   *

Yesterday, I became so angry that I ate a quesadilla. Then I
smashed my desk with a snow globe. I once cried for three

days about a purple butterfly kite that refused to fly. Weeks
later, I sobbed at our toaster for burning my optimism,

and when you called me unstable, I kicked our floor pantry
just to prove you right. It was inevitable. You would spit me

out as if I was a watermelon seed. You would ask me three
times a day how I felt about broken backspaces, but my eyes

were already decomposing. Days expired. I was the rotting Jack
O’ Lantern left outside our door. Every time you told me a

truth, I used a magnifying glass to find all of your potholed
lies. Eventually, I fell silent watching the image of you,

dad, melt like the icicles that later formed on our house
gutters. I tried to hold them once, but they only burned my hands.