A tablespoon of rust

mixed in blood

and a pinch of acid for my bones

A serrated piece of steel to

hold the banged-up liver

and a handful of sand in my eyes.

With a bag new bought and

shining wheels instead of toes

I’ve been pushed down the road

of conformity.

Reeling and rattling,

tripping and tangling,

I slide downhill to a

cave unknown.

A wagon like the inside of me

pushed me out of my trajectory

jilting me out of the downhill dream.

The rust poured out,

the sand swept in,

and the pieces of metal

came jangling out.

A deep inhale cleared my sinuses

and for the first time in my life

I smelt.

The wagon drove me

I drove the wagon

Uphill this time to a meadow

where stars sleep buried

where breaths make beds

and where running ahead is slower

than standing still and bent.

The wagon drove me

and I drove the wagon

onward, to a river that rests.

…now that you’re here

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Ria and her love affair with reading

Ria has been instrumental in helping Ameya strike a chord with its readers. In addition to her prowess as a short story writer, her poems are a true reflection of her undying appreciation of this art. If you’d like to know more about her, make sure to follow her on Instagram here.

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