• folded_letters 6w

    I'm embalmed in bitterness
    From years of being your slave
    Serving morning tea at your bed
    I poison it with my curses.

    I wear a snake called hate around my neck
    It hisses at your very sight when you shout my name
    Revealing its fangs is all it ever does
    It is my heart who drinks all the venom
    It is dying a slow death.

    I wonder if Kali and Durga feel disgraced
    By the woman gulping the torments down her throat
    This is no 'abla nari', oh no
    But the jewel of goodness is too heavy to carry
    And the counsel is nothing but spectators.
    ©folded_letters