By Moonmoon Chowdhury


For eons, I’ve been shrinking in this chamber, 
Buried under the putrid odor of mothballs.
Memories with forty tentacles and a thousand paws
Gnaw at my flaccid heart as the dirge crescendos.
The sedatives don’t palliate my elephantine pain no more.

The yesteryears trickle in  through the translucent drapery,
And hover over the crinkled bed that houses the threadbare me.
The potpourri of corroded dreams, lost friends, winding paths, 
Whirr and scatter even as my splintered spirit craves 
A break from the begrimed monochrome.

I’ve tried opening the window to trap the rays of the Sun, 
But there’s been a total eclipse, for days on end.
They prescribe self-help books, and cultivating hobbies,
And chide me for my perfect inability to invoke beauty.  
Alas! they don’t see the multiplying moulds and the dead end,
And how I circle back to square one, again and again.

Moonmoon Chowdhury is an aspiring poetess and writer. Her poems and stories have been published in twelve anthologies, available on Amazon. She is currently based in Amsterdam, Netherlands.

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