Wildflower

Parabjot Gharyal

She was bright like the sun, planets revolving around her.

Instantly brightening the blue faces of her children.

She was the wildflower.

So sweet.

Attracted all the bees.

She braided my hair like how I braid yours, two pigtails for a schoolgirl.

A bun for a married woman along with her bangles.

Proof of marriage.

Every night her warm hands stroked my hair and patted my head.

A straw bed, one blanket, on the roof in this small village.

Counting the stars until thy ran out.

Looks of a deer,

voice of a bear.

Elegance of a swan.

A heart of gold.

Managed the house, the children helped.

She rose before the rooster, slept after her fawns.

Grinding the wheat into bread,

sewing the clothes,

and fattening the animals.

Her secret recipes past down the family tree.

Her roti’s perfectly round, her daal leaves you wanting for more.

A wildflower attracted all the bees.

She prayed everyday for the safety of her children.

Their health, love, and support.

A religious woman, a widow who provided everything.

A housewife who crochet sweaters, hats, and gloves for her children.

Her grandchildren.

Grandchildren.

-She gave me this blanket; it feels like her embrace.

-She sounds amazing. 

-Yes, she does, I wish you knew her. I wish she knew you.

Alone

Afternoon sun, bright, hot, alone.

Powerful strides,

confident.

The dress twirls with excitement,

heels make a statement. 

A statement.

The leaves wave,

The lime grass dances while

birds sing to Michael Buble.

A vast ocean sky, the same landscape.

The tiny brick walls,

the breakable fences.

Not a soul to be seen for miles on end.

Powerful strides.

Strides of giants, marking its way in the cracked earth.

Making its way home from an adventure.

Afternoon sun, bright, hot, alone.

Alone… alone… alone?

A statement.

Statement.

Afternoon sun, bright, hot… alone?

Afternoon sun, bright, hot, alone.

The cracked earth like quicksand, a restraint.

Leaves waving while the ravens sing to Michael Buble.

Swimming against the current of the ocean sky. 

The brick walls of houses towered,

covering the vast grey sky.

The bounded fences creating a border.

Houses.

Houses are the only witness.

The sidewalk pavement stretches, stretches, stretches. 

Stretching, the howling taunts of the wind.

Stretching, never ending.

Feeling like a dream.

Everything is melting, heavy, blurry.

The scenery, smell, taste melt together.

Betrayed by my eyes, nothing but tunnel vision.

Not a soul for miles, not a soul… Except.

Sharp Metal

White walls on all four walls

The AC blasting while I was shivering,

laying on this leather seat.

-I’ll be waiting outside.

Nodding my head to disagree,

Ah. He left.

I’m alone with this strange man

wearing a white coat and a mask.

The sound of sharp metal clanking together.

The bright lamp shined into my eyes,

seeing no other color except orange.

Buzz buzz.

Do I have to go through this? I won’t be able to stand another year of it.

The constant migraines and headaches.

I see nothing.

Only feel the sharp tool scraping my teeth.

My mouth full of water,

the blue light that hurts my gums.

The feeling of pressure.

Laying on the leather chair, waiting for it to be over.

Buzz buzz.

The sound, so loud in my ear.

BUZZ BUZZ.

No longer able to hear Evan Rachel Wood singing ‘Strange Magic’ on television.

Buzz buzz.

My eyes kept shut.

-I’m back, wow! Done already?

-Really? How do I look?

The taste of metal and elastic bands.

Metal clasp pressuring the gaps.

Sharp tiny edges scraping my mouth when a word was spoken.

My tongue has tiny scratches, forever becoming scars of this invention.

-How does it feel?

-… It’s perfect.