there’s poetry in a last breath

by Navya Chitlur
10/12/24

side a: a dove falling from the clouds

how long will this last —
                  the waking & immediate crumbling
                  walking with wobbling legs and unshed tears
                  mourning for something you’ve forgotten the name of
                  longing for something you’ve never had
when will this end —
                  i’m scared of rolling off my bed and having to face the world
                  i’m scared of having people see me as if my body is a real thing
                  i’m scared of the fact that i exist & i’m scared of being scared

i woke up this morning immediately putting my headphones in to avoid the flooding of thoughts and i sat on my chair blanket around my shoulders curled into a ball as i joined a class i didn’t care about and i wondered what it felt like to feel
i sat unmoving then watched a tv show about learning to breathe in a world that only serves to break you to pieces and i cried when the girl finally smiled and imagined that someday that might be me
the voice in my throat was gone and i couldn’t talk and couldn’t think and couldn’t feel and
                  it feels so good to be dead but it feels so horrible to act alive when you know you exist against all odds and
                  you want nothing more than to die but you continue to exist for an indecipherable reason

i sat in front of the mirror today
i do that sometimes

i liked the silence in my room and in my body
i like the quiet
it’s when i can die in peace

i sat in front of the mirror and looked at my body and touched my face trying to tell myself i was real and i tapped my fingers against my shins as my arms wrapped around my knees because it felt good to feel so small
                  i think i was dreaming of walls caving in and i was dreaming that nothing existed outside the door

how do you exist
                  when you know you’ve never done anything good for the world
                  and your only purpose is to burden everyone and everything
                  you only look at your eyes in the mirror to tell yourself that
                  no one likes people who are sad
                  only sad people like people who are sad

                  and that’s why you’re broken

it’s been half a day now and i haven’t gotten out of bed yet and i am home alone and that usually makes me smile because my safe haven extends from just my room to my entire house
my parents are gone praying to the gods i don’t believe in and i think i don’t believe in god only because god never answered to me ever and i don’t really believe in anything anyway

i keep waking up and falling back to sleep trying to sleep until i wake up and i no longer feel like something’s wrong with me but it never happens
i don’t know why my body is broken and i don’t know how to piece myself together
                  the only thing i know is how to exist:
                                    you don’t need to find a home in your body
                                    you just have to realize your bones aren’t your bones and your blood is your best friend and
                                    watching it run reminds you you are human and your skin doesn’t matter so your blood never ends
                                    you exist between breaths of air and between the seconds where your lungs collapse and expand again
                                    you exist in the white of your eyes you see in the mirror you look dead you look so dead you’re
                                    dead and your eyes lose their light completely but

                                                      it’s easier to survive when you don’t want to exist

there’s something weird in the way your tongue falls across your mouth when you talk and the way your voice pushes itself out of your lips uncalled for unwanted just like you
and there’s something weird in the way the food falls down your throat and you can feel it between your teeth and covering your tongue when you chew and that might be why i haven’t eaten yet today
there’s this weird feeling that spasms across my body when it gets what it needs
                  i think it’s because i am more human when i’m dying

i can’t drink or eat or force myself to stand without crumbling to pieces and i can’t pretend to realize that my body is my body my body is this body i am in this body this body is mine it’s mine i don’t know if this body exists in synchronicity with my soul but it does i think it does it’s me this body this body is me it’s me it’s me
i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m alive i’m
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
dying.

*

side b: something good will happen to you today

                  there’s a dove in my chest that refuses to take flight
                  it stays there, wings not broken quite yet
it has a heart in its beak that beats restlessly between my broken ribs
it pumps blood into my veins like rivers propelling my feet when the ground feels too far away from me
it’s wings flap the air that form the breath between my cracked lips

(it’s hard to exist between verses of sadness // it’s hard to breathe with a broken chest and a shriveled heart)

there’s this promise hidden between the grooves of my gums that never leaves my mouth
but it’s always there and sometimes it feels like
oxygen
                  i find a secret happiness in watching this tv show
                                    about liberation
                                    about the exhaustion that comes from existing
                                    about learning the meaning of a smile
                  i thought of it today when i looked at the moon
                  it was out before the sky got dark and i saw the last drops of a purple sunlight leak away from the clouds
                                    something good will happen to you today
                                                      something good will happen to you today
                                                                        something good will happen to you today

                  it doesn’t take the pain away                   but it makes it a little more bearable
                                                                        (nothing ever does)                   (somehow)

(this dove takes flight into the clouds / when i think about / freedom)

my body is breaking / falling to pieces / but i am building a home in it / somehow
                  my bones are / outside of my skin / and i am disfigured / in every way
                                    my parents / do not understand / why i look / dead
                                                      i do not / understand / why i am / alive

                  but i do —
                  this home
                                    in my body
                                                      will not last
                                                                        my body will break / soon
                                                                                          but this bird cage / is golden / strong / until it does

(this peaceful quiet / comes with the feeling / of coming to terms with / death)

                  this home is built of
         1. songs that build me beds on clouds singing to the sky & me while i float upwards endlessly
         2. the taste of sunlight on my tongue and the moon’s reflection in my eyes
         3. the white heart on sidewalk rock hidden beneath the bushes i always pass on my walk home
         4. the way the sunlight filters through green leaves on trees & the crunch of red ones under slippers
         5. imaginary talks on rooftops away from everything feet barely brushing the stars
         6. emptiness that hugs this body everywhere until i am entirely consumed by it
                  (somehow this broken home is holding my broken body gently as they both fall apart completely)

this pain is beginning / to feel comfortable again // i am relearning / how to give dying / the name of poetry

                  i am learning
                  to call the tears on my cheeks
                  & the blood on my wrists
                  the nectar from the gods

***

(This piece is part of our yearlong series called Heart Beets that features the work of a group of teen writers, giving us a glimpse into their journey through the school year.)

What are you looking for?