Inheritance

I have been disciplined 
Long enough for my emotions to slow down and clot like tree roots or
Swollen dog knot. Now I can only stare at the spinning sky, impotent.
And like a eunach I still feel them stirring, biting back words I
Mean to say like I am holding on to a strand of hair keeping me afloat.
Yet the stump has swallowed the wound, a cataract of virgin film.
I can now grit my teeth and melt them down into a calcium cage on demand
And swallow sentences whole.

I had tried to fish them out before with dragging hooks to
Fish the pain out from my gut. Words do not spill
Out and I remain gasping and guilty. I had tried to get them out
I really did, but all I could manage is a pathetic warble like
Wailing wordless babies. Next to children of a loving God, whose lips are clean
And parted like a blue frolicking sky of their childhood,
I am inarticulate with my useless fingers. Must be nice to not burn
Like a bottle at sea destined to stomach a secret message till I am sick.

Must be nice to know how to be selfish.

This is my gift of evolution. When a chair is missing a leg
The remaining have to learn to compensate by shutting up. I am disciplined
Enough. I cannot afford to be the baby crying for attention look at
Me! Instead I have learnt to curl upon my pain – a foetus’ instinct- and preserve it
Like a clam’s wet pearl, guard it jealously while sleeping upon a tooth,
Clench it into a soggy pulp and cry myself to sleep.