Poem – 2

I thought everything was going just fine
and caught hold of the paper.
The branch snapped just then.
And my mind asked: Where do I sit?
I replied: Go, fly wherever you wish.
Eat whatever you like.
Roam wherever you want.
My twisted mind, however
snapped back: But, won’t I have to come back
anyway?
I said: Don’t disturb me now.
Can’t you see I am planning to write?
My mind melted and began dripping
like blood from a finger
nicked while sharpening a pencil.
And as the red drop spread
my paper started growing in size.
A stream dribbled at the corner of the paper.

I put my hand out to catch some of it.
Mountains exploded against my chest.
My paper flew off
and my cupped hands came apart.
Mountain-peaks pierced my shoulders
like knives
and entered deep
inside me.

Now, the wind
blows
through and through
me.
A voice cries out
from inside my body
riddled with holes:
I have come back.
Where do I sit?

I try
to reach out
for my pencil
with the broken head
and –

POEM - 2