Poetry Corner: Bhumika Choudhary '18

BHUMIKA CHOUDHARY ’18
STAFF WRITER
Reality or Illusion
The two heaviest keys of the piano
Are pressed down together to make a sound, the sound of a
Paused heart beat. The repetition, the intensity
Takes me to a black box,
Where silver zigzag lines are piercing my ears like a bee’s constant buzzing.
My pupils are dilated, my throat is dry, and my breaths heavy
I try – I try to run towards the golden doorknob
Except the painted faces in white clothes have encircled me.
I scream, I shout until I hear the rustling and whizzing of dry leaves.
I open my eyes to find myself –
On my queen-sized bed,
Wrapped in my blue floral blanket.
Solitary
The wrath of the sun has finally subsided
Leaving behind a canvass of black paint
Which was once the color of a calm ocean.
Seated on an A-4 sized wooden table with smooth grey edges,
I inhale the fresh virgin air
And experience my once warm palm become cold against the metal arm of my chair.
My eyes marvel at the creeper’s artistic embrace of the cemented walls,
Which reminds me of veins traveling within the human body.
As I admire the dance of green on pale white
My focus shifts.
In the midst of serenity
I hear footsteps in the distance
I hear muffled voices
That become louder and louder.
And in that moment
My peace is shattered.

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