The first grave
-Riddhi Malik
I don’t want to be here anymore,
Holding funerals up in my eyes,
For people I mistook for homes.
Being homesick for just some broken walls,
Sitting on the doorstep of a house
That is no longer there anymore.
The cemetery has become a crime scene
With burials underway,
Left with epitaphs where
Once the nameplates laid.
The empire of refuge is collapsing
And I am returning to the past,
But no one is there anymore.
I like this!