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Ananya Dey Poem
The fire crackles—I take the heat,
but my hands pass through my frozen skin.
Copyright © Ananya Dey | Year Posted 2025
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Ananya Dey Poem
Black and grey—
half-dead, half-forgotten,
etched in silence, waiting.
Thou to draw, thou to withdraw,
tracing echoes, tracing the traces,
cursed yet, blessed.
Now, I sit, tracing
the scars of the ruby,
fingers brushing against old omens
in the reflection’s cold embrace.
(I know the echoes all too well—
for I am the one who breathes life
into the melancholies in my head.)
Copyright © Ananya Dey | Year Posted 2025
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Ananya Dey Poem
I hope the day death comes and takes me,
it embraces me, holds me right,
and soothes the child in me, who's still crying.
I hope the day death embraces me,
it rains hard
and washes all the hate for myself in my heart
I hope the day death embraces me I
Don't see dead kids inside adults
I hope death embraces me
Because I know a no truer dead corpse than me
I hope the day death embraces
It washes the hate before taking me
I hope the day death embraces me
It makes a false promise
You will be loved unconditionally
Copyright © Ananya Dey | Year Posted 2026
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