A Mad Woman

I linger a limping shadow in your after-glow

and spend  moonless nights, sore and

bleeding trying to make sense of your

departure in the darker ages of

my youth. 


The wounds you left are still ripe feasted 

with pale maggots oozing their heads out

Oh! How I have wandered like a madwoman

in sinister woods screaming and 

scratching the barks seeking you inside

and outside.


In the shadier cooler corners of the  wild

forests searching for some ruffles behind

the withered leaves, looking for faint ripples

in the slimy ponds. 


Oh! How I’ve tried to make sense of liaisons 

and laughed and laughed,  in a vain

tried to extract out the bloody ticks out of

my green wounds while the hungry 

scavengers looked on.


I measured my days with number of pests

my bruises had, eaten up from inside

a dainty hollow figure, I just swayed like

a scare-crow all these years .


Oh! How you stabbed me several times on the 

back, but I was so busy pouring in your warm

embraces, the ones I never had, the only

wet  kisses I never got .


May be it’s a mystery why you left, but the

gashes you gave, the slashes you made, the

lacerations will stay forever , and I 

a madwoman will wander in the

sinister forests screaming and







31 thoughts

  1. There’s pain involved when we become mad women. But it’s what harbours invaluable charms. I think there’s beauty in madness, poetry in melancholy. Normalcy is just a word without depth, madness is an island only few can endure.

    Beautiful and thought-provoking read, You’re an impeccable poet! ❤

    • Nameera you framed it very well, there is indeed beauty in madness and poetry in melancholy. I seek refuge in madness when on the edge of dreary normalcy. Thanks a lot for reading and leaving valuable comments, you are a kind soul. Blessings!

  2. In-depth thoughts of the pain that oozes through the very veins of life and leaving scars behind. Sometimes a loss is overwhelming, as you stated so well. 🙂

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