Poetry 2012 Third Prize, Priyanka Roy Banerjee

It’s Snowing…

It’s snowing inside.

Unlike nature, it started with a blizzard.
Blinded every corner of my heart,
the sharp spangles of snow pierced it through,
made me gape at the sight of fresh blood,
my own blood, fresh and rosy, bloomed on snow.
The harsh winds scratched and bruised the
walls of my heart, moved its foundation.

Now, the blizzard has stopped.
Smooth petals of snow keep falling,
trying to heal the bruises with their flowery softness.
But they wouldn’t know.
They wouldn’t know how it felt to watch blood,
oozing out like a life-saving river,
only taking away life from me.
Flakes of snow accumulate, and become heavier
than the weathering earth.

The snow, even if it ever melts,
has successfully petrified me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s