I happen to live in Central Indian-
Forests, I collect wood and honey
And have no idea about English woods
And Manchester clothes, I belong
To the soil, I’m anti national?

I live on concessions, subsidies
And support, And You call me-
‘Dark skinned untouchable’; today
I don’t have bells over my neck
I’m proud of me, I’m anti national?

I always spoke of empowerment,
Marx and Che run my blood and
I’m a utopian reality to you
But you cannot ignore my voice
I’m not outdated, I’m anti national?

I believe in ‘being human’ above all-
Traits, I live beyond geographies
And I cannot stand war and bloodshed
You brand me as an activist, I’m
Just humane, I’m anti national?

I do not belong to the 80% of our
Country’s population, but I’m as
Much a patriot as you, My God
Is same as yours, How am I an
Alien? I’m anti national?

I don’t believe in the power and safety
You claim with a nuclear reaction.
I see only explosions and devastation
I want my children to be safe, I love
The world, I’m anti national?

I don’t like vegetables, I eat meat-
Since birth. I will not force-feed you,
I respect your choice and I expect you
To be tolerant to what I cook-
At my home, I’m anti national?

I’m not Pakistani but I love them
As much I love an American or an
European. After all, we share
Our borders. I want to settle all
Disputes, I’m anti national?  

I married a man outside my tribe,
Love didn’t notice his 'official tribe',
Our children are a mixed tribe
And we celebrate life as it is,
We’re human-tribe, I’m anti national?

I stand with them with rainbow flags,
They deserve justice as much as you
And me. Give me one valid reason to
Call them unnatural? I want S377
To be scrapped, I’m anti national?

I celebrate my country’s diversity,
I don’t need your certificate to prove
My patriotism! This is India, I stand
With my constitution and its democracy
And I give a **** about what you think!

You push me down
You throw me around
I dont make a sound
I dont want it to come back around

I get cut up
I wrap it up
I sew it up
While I fill your cup

Every drink
Every bottle
Every shot
Every trouble

Stays in my mind
You wont get away this time
Cross that line
And it will be your last time

You gave me scars
You gave me wounds
You damaged my mind
The forever doom

But I got you back
And now youre under
What do to think of that
Didnt hear my thunder

My heart stops
& I have to check,
Just one more time.
I know it's not him,
But I'm terrified either way.
      I hate it,
When they look at me.
When 'he' looks at me,
Watching me...
      I know he does,
Because I'm on edge.
He threatens my family,
with nothing more than a stare.

& I want to run.

Then he asks her
the heaviest riddle
he carries
from the start,
of why
the lines written
above
her eyebrows
threatens
the calmness
of his heart.

My lungs are burning
And I start to sweat,
Not being able to breathe
Is my biggest threat.
My lungs fill with water,
And my breath gets shallow,
My chest is pounding,
But my heart is hollow.
My pulse is slowing,
And my stress is on the rise,
The pressure inside me is increasing,
As tears gather in my eyes.
My throat starts to shrink,
And my airway begins to close,
I begin to fall unconcious,
And blood drips from my nose.

On that day all I wanted to do was to protect them.
I wanted to crush those who threatened them.
But I didn't.
The fear that I couldn't control my demon was too much.
The true threat wasn't the people who threatened them.
The true threat was the demon inside, which I can't control.
This demon has a name but no physical form.
It's name is anger.

I was in a ****** bar,
Or public house,
Being threatened,
For something I’d done.
Darting furiously…
Through city streets,
Running, running,
For something I’d done.
My companion hailed,
And stopped a bus,
Its metal doors flew open,
For something I’d done.
Had to get to them,
Had to get through them,
Under furious pursuance,
For something I’d done.

Will my misery entertain?
Will he salivate at the prospects and their resulting effects?
Joy, he wouldn't contain.

"Oh girl, the things I could do." He did almost coo.
"I want you to remember this encounter long after I'm through."

"With fire, you chose to play. Such a childish fool, one only gets burnt that way."

Why does my creativity choose to bloom?
Why does it grow as I contemplate delving into the darkness, pitching my tent in the blackness, amongst all of the doom and gloom?
Will my soul be efficiently sort out and collected for The Man In Red to consume?