Poetry - Pradipta Dey

PORCELAIN

I take a sip. And my throat burns an ounce. It's just a swallowed sentinel. I find my friends, grins awide, looking at me

I tell them, pour me another. I take a sip, this time my head slouches a bit. It's just two pegs I find my friends laughing, hysterically.

I tell my friends, I'm not yet drunk They tell me, it's okay. They pour me another. I drown it whole, and with it, my sorrows. I find my eyes, widened, happy at who I have become.

I tell my friends, I'm just a bit drunk. They tell me, they're too. They're my best friends, and they pour me another. It's just simple water for me. I drown it again, and with it, comes reality.

I take a sip, but this time, from my pool of tears. Because my friends tell me, I'm crying incessantly. I drown it again, this time it spills onto my conscience.

I tell my friends, I'm quite drunk. My friends tell me, not to take more but I take the wretched golden Ambrosia And pour it whole, this time, with it I drown myself.

I tell my friends, I want to sleep. Maybe, forever. They tell me, I'm meant for love. So I should love. And I realize maybe they're right.

I take a white roll, with an orange posterior, And I light it, and with all my might I try to suck out it's damnation Oh, so much for euphoria. If only, the cigarette knew it lived my life.

I tell my friends, my heart is not beating, They tell me, maybe I'm not human. I fall off my chair, and I vomit, leaving a speck of blood On the floor. Maybe, just maybe, I'm dying.

I tell my friends, don't save me. They tell me, I'm their salvation. I keep drowning, I know I'm myself. But they pull me out, and I see I lost my home. I'm just a little not human.

I don't take a sip anymore, I maybe was dying. But my friends tell me, My mother is sitting back at home, waiting for her for heart to return I understand, you are just a fiasco waiting to be real.

And I, I'm just porcelain, playing into hands.

Admin