“Delicate” – Nayana Nair

On Sundays, I wear the purple summer dress
that I once promised myself I would never wear.
I paint my nails, I color my lips, and I open the windows in me.
I become someone I was taught to hate, I try to break
my hatred with my smile.
I let myself be reigned
by the greed for beautiful, sweet, shining things.
I think of all the things I have tried not to want.
I let myself be the delicate vulnerable woman
that is easy to love, easy to idolize,
easy to abuse, easy to blame, and easy to hate.
I tell myself that it is not my fault,
but the more I live the harder it becomes to believe it.
I fall asleep on the floor where first I tasted blood,
wondering why I can never give up on this dress, this dream
that has given me nothing but hurt.

8 Comments

  1. Thought provoking as always – I love the way you write.

    1. Nayana Nair says:

      Thank you so much for your kind words πŸ™‚ Means a lot. πŸ™‚
      Glad that you enjoyed reading my poem. πŸ˜€

  2. Anusha says:

    Your words are so strong. πŸ’™

    1. Nayana Nair says:

      Thank you much πŸ™‚ Really glad that you liked my work πŸ™‚

      1. Anusha says:

        Count me in as a fan of your works, your words are really heart-touching. πŸ’«

      2. Nayana Nair says:

        Really means a to hear that. πŸ™‚ Thank you πŸ™‚

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