The Maze of Stomach Knots

You're the unforgiving muscle spasm,

My toe hitting the foot of the bed,

The depths of my throat burning,

The itch in the corners of my tongue.

You're the morning's cold floor,

My left eye twitching in the afternoon,

The evening's soothing black tea,

The quiet night's loud wall clock.

You're the foam drowning in the cup,

My dinner looking cold and neglected,

The dawn's fitful lamp battle,

The colours of half-sleepy patterns.

You're the ripped band-aid in the drawer,

My moody playlist in traffic fights,

The lipstick stain on the bathroom mirror,

The red dress I don't like anymore.

You’re the scrapbook painted with glitter,

My high school’s wrinkly uniform,

The whispers of the deserted hallway,

The shiver beneath the winter blanket.

- Sayantani Sarkar.