As I watch the drops fall and cover the ground,
I breathe freely for the first time in months,
Free of the blistering heat,
And the memories that come with it.
The old swimming dress that has hung in my cupboard for years silent weeps,
As I turn my back on it,
And my dreams,
Till it’s raining,
And too late again.
Another lost year.
As I watch the drops chase one another,
I finally let my window open,
Breathing freely,
Even as my room is wet and dirty,
It can’t compare with dirt I feel tainted with,
Through no fault of my own,
But by design of stolen will.
As the ground sighs in relief,
So do I,
It’s the end of the fear and the heat,
The nightmares rage no more,
Drowned out by thunder,
I finally sleep,
And no roaming hands prey on me.
As I stand beneath the first storm of monsoon,
I clung my dress tighter,
Afraid to let go,
Afraid to acknowledge the remnants of the heat,
Least it bring back unwanted memories,
Of dark nights, cries, and stolen dignity.
The shirt is white,
The storm is fierce,
It’s not a calculated move,
It’s a forgotten tale repeated many a time,
It’s a forgotten umbrella that finally sets me free.
As the water seeps in,
My body shudders not from the cold,
But the fear of scars finally seen,
Of a knife running down my breath,
Of the marks of stolen dignity,
And yet I run through the streets,
Head held high,
And no one glances twice at me.
I am finally free,
Free of the monsters and their memories,
And so I pull out that old swimming costume,
And dive in,
As the storm rages on,
I swim underneath,
And finally reclaim my dreams.
Summers terrify me,
With memories of unwanted hands on me,
Monsoons set me free,
Or gave the illusion to me,
Until that day,
When I finally showed my scars to the world,
And suddenly summer didn’t terrify me as much.
-Anjali
