My language is
ill-tempered,
Touchy,
Choleric,
Impatient,
Caustic...
Inside me,
There is a searing wild
That beats me persistently
Touchy,
Choleric,
Impatient,
Caustic...
Inside me,
There is a searing wild
That beats me persistently
Trying to go away
From it,
I feel ensnared
As
The noose
of belonging
Tightening around,
Tells me I’m my own language
© DEEPAK DARSHAK