Three Poems by Prachi Kholia


The hardly noticeable pulsation of its heart
Beating at the insides like drums;
Regular and systematic 
Going up and down, fascinating. 
I think I would have watched it still 
For minutes at length. 
There was something about it 
To begin, a rhythm 
Matching the vein in my head 
That was about to pop off.
The urgency was on me then
That vein in my head would burst. 
A frustrating agony awaits 
But my eyes refuse to leave the beast.
It was drawing me in 
The study breathing, music.
My heart was thumping with the rush
But I needed peace,
The vein wouldn't stop emphasizing it.
I felt the blade of the cool dagger 
As it drew hot blood gushing;
The creature let out a shrill cry 
And then came silence.
The vein was throbbing no more
My heart was finally at ease. 


as I go deeper 
into the man that he was
it seems to explain 
the previously unexplainable 
composition of my own character
it becomes much clearer
in him I find 
the excuse for my own derangement
we share the same deficiency 
in the configuration of our nature
or it’s just me unconsciously 
mimicking the legend 
probably the later
but anyhow it expounds my caricature 
at least for me
and I can no longer deny 
that I am as much of a lunatic as him
a reckless mess 
trying to mirror his logic
the unusual in him calls out to me 
my insanity is in accordance with his

the feverish ‘l'appel du vide’                            
that he often claimed to have overtaken him
I have, myself, felt many a times before
his madness explains mine
I blame it on his presence
throughout my impressionable years
tender age of growth 
shapes a person’s mind
mine was made to match his
in all of it’s abnormality 
during those vital years of my life
I was reading more of him 
more into him
some of the darkness through his words
seeped into my soul, unknowingly
and still I read him 
with the intense frequency 
and adoration of a child
till I started morphing into the person he was
without ever knowing what exactly 
I was committing myself to


It was so empty in that apartment 
I felt my heart would burst of this loneliness.
In that moment I knew,
I could never call this place home.
Time was running out,
It was as if all my life had burnt away
Like a cigarette, consumed in its smoke.
Just gone. Though I was still here,
Still roaming this Earth;
Left behind to wander aimlessly. 
Someone up there had forgotten about me.
The wine is turning into vinegar,
What a waste! 
Binging on blue ruin or black smoke,                                    
I could still taste blood in the air. 
The iron assaulting my mouth senseless
Meanwhile blue-blooded bastards from under,
No good for anything, petty sirens;
Were moon kissing their way into oblivion.

When I open the windows still, 
A familiar smell engulfs me.
Somewhere down the street, 
A rose was burning.
Can't say I particularly disliked the smell,
But it has such a distinct aroma 
That can be identified anywhere;
Smells like innocence on gasoline. 
It's intoxication feels so wrong,
I want to refrain from enjoying it.
But I do; 
One full breath and I am far too deep in it;
Right at the bottom of the swimming pool 
Refusing to swim back up onto the patio,
Even if it meant drowning.
It's the dark waters that restrain me, 
You see, but the waves just somehow
Romance me into inhaling it;
Completely love struck with the poetry.

Consciousness makes me feel all mopey
So I ditch the norm for a high.
Burning with a blue flame,                                                              
My better judgement, if I had any
Couldn’t stop me from going on a one way road.
It feels like something a sane person would do.
And I am so far beyond sane 
That there can be no scale for it;
Guess the burning smell wasn't coming from outside. 
Did I finally burst a string?                              
Or my ears are just ringing?
The past would often hit me,
Out of nowhere, like a sledge hammer. 
Or act like a reminder on the phone
That lights up the screen like a flickering light bulb.
Yet the future was a beacon of hope for me, 
One which was continuously moving;
Further and further away,
So far at last, that it got out of sight.

I had officially given up on me;
Even when I opened my eyes 
I saw blue, miles and miles of it;
Dark and deep; 
Dark and deep. 

Prachi Kholia is a Master’s student at the Department of English and Modern European Languages, University of Lucknow. With a curiosity for everything ranging from Science-Fiction to Ancient History and a passionate love for reading; she is obsessed with the stars and the emptiness they reside in, often trying to weave stories through her poems. Her Instagram handle is _prachi98_.

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