Hysteria

Hysteria

Bile rose up my throat, the gut started to churn. A faint ache was throbbing, burning my insides. Something delicious was cooking and ironically so very repulsive to me. The heart continued to bruise, painful spasms shivering my body. It was flowers everywhere, overlooking my barren yard strewn with weeds. As if fall prevailed forever. My plants are dead and dried. They yelp in thirst, screeching for feed, love, and care. Birds avoided my air... it killed the plants! Wonder what it would do to humans! Perhaps a broken nest. No, I did not break it, I did not break it. I cradled it with all my heart, I nourished it with all my blood. I felt my throat tighten, I couldn't breathe, life drained from my face. The grip tightened as if someone was choking me. I noticed the rose in the vase, bathed in my blood. Oh, the rose, had all the love in the world, even the nature blushed. The sharp pain grew in my heart as if thorns rising from it, how do I stop it? How do I escape, just for a moment of relief? Where do I go? Thorns grew along my throat and heart it had to, someday...forever is just a beautiful lie. I rushed in hovering over the sink, hurled out runes from my stomach and my heart - dried leaves, straw- the broken nest, a dried rose devoid of thorns. 

Riddhi Chakraborty