Poetry

It was there all the time
the core fear, my inadequacy.
Tonight I will let go off the fire
and become a non-moving time.

When you come home for the arousal,
under the lids, you will find giant tears
frozen into a lake of no return.
Watch your steps and walk gingerly.

My unlocked door always welcomes
the incendiary past, pure happenings.
To return the clothes worn by the truth
on the night of gang rape.

It does not go, my nameless agony.
My children of sorrow, where will
they go? The scars?
I scan the sky.