with every breath you take
your rustling had started to fizzle out and
you were beginning to take heavier breaths than you normally did.
‘stop curling up your leaves on me, i thought we were friends,’ i said
you opened your green eyelashes slowly,
and apologetically to me you said, ‘i’m sorry, i just wanted some rest.’
we had become too blind to notice; we had become too blind to focus.
i told you to warm me when i had a cold and soothe me when i had a fever.
we were told you were eternal. that you were forever.
are you okay, is what we should have asked you.
make us feel okay, is instead what we told you.
you swallowed our commands like pills at every hour of the day
but we were really just tiring you and making you ache.
you didn’t complain; why didn’t you?
‘you’re occupying too much of our land,’ i said
[but wasn’t it your land that we just exploited instead?]
‘give us more water, we’re thirsty, too’
[but we drank it all and just left poison for you.]
‘you’re not a friend, you never let us share,’ i said
[you gave us everything but we still said you didn’t care]
‘why don’t you talk to me anymore,’ i asked
‘i’m just exhausted now; i want to rest,’ you replied
and you shut your eyes with a tired, misty sigh.
you were beginning to take heavier breaths than you normally did.
‘stop curling up your leaves on me, i thought we were friends,’ i said
you opened your green eyelashes slowly,
and apologetically to me you said, ‘i’m sorry, i just wanted some rest.’
we had become too blind to notice; we had become too blind to focus.
i told you to warm me when i had a cold and soothe me when i had a fever.
we were told you were eternal. that you were forever.
are you okay, is what we should have asked you.
make us feel okay, is instead what we told you.
you swallowed our commands like pills at every hour of the day
but we were really just tiring you and making you ache.
you didn’t complain; why didn’t you?
‘you’re occupying too much of our land,’ i said
[but wasn’t it your land that we just exploited instead?]
‘give us more water, we’re thirsty, too’
[but we drank it all and just left poison for you.]
‘you’re not a friend, you never let us share,’ i said
[you gave us everything but we still said you didn’t care]
‘why don’t you talk to me anymore,’ i asked
‘i’m just exhausted now; i want to rest,’ you replied
and you shut your eyes with a tired, misty sigh.
Samaira Mohunta is a young Indian writer and athlete who loves puppies, poetry and pancakes! She is a 15 year old girl studying in grade 10 at the Shri Ram School, Moulsari. Her notes app is a refined romanticization of her feelings; writing helps reduce the magnitude of emotion she sometimes feels; it makes her happier. She is the founder and EIC of NovelNomenal, a lit mag for everyone between the ages 8 and 18.