Heavenly Hell Pottery by Shruti Dubey

by Thai Youth Express

Heavenly Hell

I feel empty.

when the day comes, there is no light.

there is a gaping wound in my chest

being slowly carved into a second face.

the demonic hand grips me with its talons

and pushes everything inside me all at once.

overwhelming, it makes me feel.

yet at once a smile appears

on my face in which people see –

nothing but me, and only a version of me. 

but when darkness ascends, there is a spark.

it speaks to me, it is my friend –

a safe haven, all troubles put aside,

it invites me into this beautiful den

in which no explanation, no proof need be:

just me and what Ii need to be.

me and my heart, we don’t have to beat.

this hollowness that stands before me –

its fulfillment expands into wonderful things.

come another day, my troubles are past.

remembering back, the hallucinations don’t last.

a brief moment of weakness, it was.

a glimpse of what happens when emotions take over;

not by fear, but by hope itself –

the possibilities and all it entails.

but what if that hope doesn’t last,

and yet again we fall into this pit of heavenly hell?

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