Once when I was young,
I grew sunflowers on my neck
and dragged sunset above my
collar bones, to levitate peace
in my orchard where chaos laid
barefoot on white pebbles and
black stones.

I saw more light raising in bottle
of wine and howls etched upon
grass blades, I've succumbed
thousands of screams in my head
but silence walked out of my
throat each time truth negotiated.

When I was young,
I labelled heartbreaks as poetries
and scars as belligerent hope,
but as creases endowed my skin
I felt life is more about survival
and existence, like blooming
dahlias, which cry and shout yet
smile till in fences it is choked.
~Purva

#once

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