At Peace

An incessant chasm of 

fear, desperation, guilt. 

The sea of fancy, the abyss of torment 

my mind, 

hiding 

darkness underneath. 

Hunting through the cluttered wreck of 

my passions, 

bleeding bitter brine 

stagnated into a cesspool of terminal woe. 

The shadows envelop, 

clawing into 

my skin, 

lesioned with barbed wire. 

Soaked in crimson 

my heart, 

whipped and lashed. 

So cursed 

my touch, 

burns 

this beautiful world around. 

I see 

Through shards of glass 

the devil inside 

Feeding yet, 

upon my strength. 

I pick up a piece 

the mirror I did smash. 

The unbearable lightness of being 

cast off 

cast off.

By Navya Malhotra, for the Trans Solidarity Fundraiser

• ASHOKA UNIVERSITY
• Trans Solidarity Fundraiser