Darkness. Silence. Nothing. I am alone, at least that’s what I fear. I fear aloneness will consume me and become a constant. It’s hard to avoid when aloneness feels this comfortable. I hear life going on around me and yet I am surrounded by nothing more than my thoughts. The silence gives me room to think, but all this room is slowly suffocating me. Help. Somebody. Anybody. I need to breathe.
Waiting for the tide,
the unfolding water stuns
while the empty breath stands still.
Boats have been left longingly in the harbor
and tears enter the dark bay,
its black ice folding the year so that
I look dumb through all mirrors
and open a wall like before.
The sagging tree tops,
where wind has lifted animals we’ve pulled ashore,
ridges in the narrow, dusty hallway
do not spin as fast as
the old me.
Neha Indoliya is an undergraduate student at Boston University in the School of Arts and Sciences with an undeclared major.