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“Safety Matches” – Nayana Nair

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In the safety of the matches
that we have hid under our skin,
will we be safe from the winter
that lives in our hearts?

“Fire Drill” – Nayana Nair

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Yesterday the fire alarm rang.
We pretended to run
even though we knew of this lie.
Cause we were convinced
this will keep us alive,
when (if) our worst fear
(out of so many)
became reality.

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And in the open
where it was supposed to be safe
(as if any place in this world is safe)
when it started to drizzle,
people just wanted to run to a shelter.
Even if it meant taking refuge
in the building they ran away from
with fake fire.

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And so like always,
like all of us,
they ran from one place to another,
one fear to another.
And I realized I was too tired to run now.
Running from fire,
running from rain,
running from commitments,
running from love,
running from myself.
I was too tired.
Aren’t you?

“Safe” – Nayana Nair

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My bare feet are as cold as

the marbled floor, it rests on.

And my heart is as fresh as

the smell of earth after rain.

My hands move on the rim of my glass

from which I drink up life.

And I close my eyes knowing

these bars will keep me safe.

I’ve got a key, to let in those

who care enough.

They keep me safe from the sick world

And from the cruel and the insane.

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I take off my glasses

and they powder in my fist.

I blow them through the bars

on which they settle and seem like dust.

My feet seems to sink in the floor.

And the air is red with my screams.

There is ink on my fingers, on my tongue.

On the touch of shards of my broken glass.

I bleed blue.

It’s getting lonely here,

no one cares, no one visits.

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I cannot stay here any more,

But my key doesn’t fit.

I look at those outside,

mocking me.

The bars were not to keep them out.

It was to keep me in.

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