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NaPoWriMo'23 Day Nine: I have built speed breakers in my heart

Art by Claude Flight

April by Mayukh Dutta

something tells me that April is for prefaces

to write beginnings without apologies

to erase the lines drawn without a ruler,

I am no saint, yet all saints I know have sinned

I am no artist, yet no artist did ever need a scale,

they say I am a potholed highway

journeys in me often end in crashes

yet they take my deserted oblivion

and reject the placid boulevards,

it's only in April that I can convince people

that my potholes aren't fatal

and the unwrinkled roads are a sham

that my speed-breakers are not trouble

but to reject trouble that I can't.

April is for trials

my soul on the courtroom's stand

the prosecutor a crafty liar

the defense absent to make its claims,

and so these speed-breakers and potholes

become pointless evidence that my heart exists

and all witnesses have derailed in due process

I stand as a defendant at a blind jury's mercy

and these laws cornered in the dark

I can never prove my innocence

for those born in April

die from the speed-breakers in their hearts.

Love Becomes a Memory in the Blink of an Eye by Khatija Khan

ours is the only planet with life and love is

oxygen holding hands with hydrogen.

hearts are kept in rib cages and love is

the most wanted thief stealing them in minutes.

sometimes love is a century-old novel.

it feels new every time you read it.

sometimes you may think of it softly but you would want to cut your hand before reaching for it.

what i mean is

love is omnipresent and omnipotent,

like a goddess

but before you find her, see her, touch her,

she leaves.

what i mean is

love becomes a memory

in the blink of an eye.

so i have built speed breakers in my heart

for i want love to be slow with me.

i want love to sit with me for hours and then

tell me "take your time".

i want love to weep in my arms, before

eating my eyeballs.

i want love to have my back, before

deciding never to look back.

i want love to hold me still, before

ripping me to bone.

i want love to wait, rest, let me paint its picture in my mind, before becoming a souvenir that no one remembers.

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