By Priya Chouhan
PROMPT — If only ...
White foam on the outer edges of lips, stains of foul red at the center,
disgusted words forming the saliva.
The tongue adapting to the taste of poison of hate,
throat repressing its anger, tonsils all over.
Nerves pounding the thin skin of envy, blood flowing half-heartedly,
the air of optimism stilled, grew heavy, suffocating the lungs.
Ash-grey rust seated on once a beautiful mind,
poison seeping down the already bloated abdomen.
Nose bleeding with darkness, skin hair falling,
dehydrated pores of affection, a purple soul.
A severe cough of defeatism, nails painted with hues of aggression,
will I ever change?
The tongue—————all over!
Priya Chouhan completed her graduation in Economics Honours from St. Xavier's College, in India and is currently preparing for her Master's degree. For Priya, Poetry has been a tool to write on neglected matters, aiding her to weave the unspoken. An inexplicable contentment fills her heart when words finally reveal their beautiful meanings. Priya's poems have been published in Corvus review, the Black moon, Dreich, Brief Wilderness, Literary Yard, Littoral magazine, the Wise owl, Bosphorus review of books, Malaysian Indie fiction, and more. Priya writes from Jaipur, Rajasthan, India.