By Shreya Shalini
I once bit my tongue off.
It was my own teeth that made the halt.
I fell down the flight of stairs,
tried to hold the rails
as the bars slipped
through and through
my little hands.
I fell
and couldn’t ever get up.
It’s been years since,
and I am still there—
screaming and crying over the pool of my own blood
while everyone stares.
Why am I still there
when the sun reached through,
grabbed as much as it could,
and my heart refuses to blame you?
It’s me who fell.
You just pushed me through.