Poetry 2015, Featured Writer Namitha Varma Rajesh

Carcass of a Self

I cringe when I touch it.

Shrivelled,
crumply,
putrid remains
of a self.

Wandering in the corridors of my inner being,

this was the last thing I thought I’d see.

I watch amazed,
amused,
appalled –
unsure of how to react to the rotting remains
– a part of me I never knew existed.

Transfixed, I sit
in a corner, staring at this carcass,
too scared to leave,
too afraid to touch it.