where's my life?

surrounded all around 

by sterile stars, but 

i do not even try to

reach and bask in 

such gilded shine, 

fuck them,

i've my own design,

i have never felt

so alone yet alive,

"where's my life?"

was it just sex or 

power fuelling my

breaths to set my

own home on fire?

he says, "i am his 

only earth in his space"

but i doubt my past

religions and insights,

i might be his life but

"where's my life?" 

all the other girls 

i called Cinderella 

are married and 

living in beehives,

it's hard to chase

routes on which 

cowards dragged 

their bodies into 

shame with pride,

rolling over thorns 

deflating my swollen 

diaphragm up and down,

"where's my life?"

and one day,

my husband will 

fuck me thrice 

just in one night,

bittersweet cherry 

red marks over my 

breasts, leaking white 

syrups down there, 

on the altar of our bed,

he'll show me heavens,

but i will ask him,

"where's my life?"

- chetna 🌻