I hugged my murderers
Those who served salt on my wounds,
snatched my childhood diary,
threw it into orange fumes.
I hugged them.
Burned my dreams, locked every door;
my favourite scarf, they tore.
The depth of darkness they showed in their core—
fear of a knock on the door
since the age of four.
I sit beside my window,
watch a homeless snore.
I find his life a dream of mine—
jealousy from my eyes gets poured.
Yet after decades, I hold a smile;
all scars, perfectly, I hide.
I gift sweetness to the monsters
who drank my blood.
I offered bonds to the evils
who used to flood—
floods of tears,
oceans of sadness,
peace of heavy weight.
Yet apparently,
this is my karma.
This is my fate.
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