by Hiten Chojer
But now I quit this dance, my dear siblings.
I must put my feet back on earth.
A Kiss for Anxiety
Lost breeze squeezes through
the blinds, softly penetrates,
slow murmurs creeping in like knives.
In my corner
our lonely plant, wilting,
grows toxic at its tips,
where green leaves once gleamed at the seams.
When it rains, it weeps.
We haven’t raged a thunder
in weeks.
Blow us some breeze,
blow your gentle kiss,
plant a pretty peck on my neck.
Blow me away or
the anxiety that grows on my neck.
Feet on Earth
I was gone afar for long,
for a stranger’s dance in the new land,
with the weak and the weary and the strong.
I walked on their roads where
the learned old ways ceased to find me.
When the dreams and dusk approached,
the pink night skies beyond the highways,
belied the sincerity of the dark.
And the wicked birds would seduce
with their pale and perfect plays,
which my olden ways would’ve reproached.
The husky songs on their quivering lips
even belied the reality of their woes.
But now I quit this dance, my dear siblings.
I must put my feet back on earth.
© Hiten Chojer
[Originally appeared in the book Gods of Anxiety Be Damned]
Hiten Chojer (he/him) is an Indian-born writer and the author of Gods of Anxiety Be Damned. He writes poetry and prose, often exploring themes of identity, displacement, and mental health.
Find him on Instagram @hitenchojer.
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