photography by Ingrid M. Calderon-Collins

I built a windowless house out of myself
at the edge of the cliff,
where the front door drops,
into the mouth
of the ocean.
The heavy waves keep coming
for me mercilessly; few more smacks
from their belt, against the crumbling ground beneath,
and not so long until they topple my walls.
As they reach my threshold, the bird perched over my ridge
says goodbye; my rooms lose hope, my lights shut down,
and in slow motion my pipes
burst open like a violent lullaby.
My bed free falls and as the last of me
disappears with a splash, the ocean bed welcomes me with open arms.
In challenger deep, I build a grave
out of me, since I could never be
a home.


Akash is a 21-year-old Pakistani poet from Manchester with work published in The Open Culture Collective, and forthcoming in the Pocketfirepresents.

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