IN WHICH

In which I am standing in front of the window
and you’re rubbing warmth back into
my hands; somewhere in my room there’s
a list of all the people I wanted to hurt but
it’s easier to catch raindrops in my mouth
and I know I’m getting off topic here but it’s
so difficult to focus & I think I’m a little lost;
In which I’m waiting for a girl with
acne scarred skin and weary eyes like maybe
forgetting is the same as forgiving –
like maybe this time I’ll be enough,
so she’ll be enough ; In which I
cried, a photo of your face cupped
between her hands like ellipses;
In which I asked why you’re at the airport,
sipping tea at an empty table, while I search a
crowded terminal. In which I go home alone
because you never showed up (we think you were
in that plane that was lost overseas).
In which I reacquaint myself with loneliness,
glass half full of memories, (I’d like to forget…
please).

By Rachana Hegde

Biography:

Rachana Hegde is a sixteen year old part-time poet from India who collects words & other oddities. You can usually find her reading on her kindle or daydreaming about characters from abandoned writing projects. Her poetry has been published by or is forthcoming in: Germ Magazine, Textploit, The Fem and Vagabond City. Read more of her work at www.ink-smudgedfingers.tumblr.com.