vandalism in my head

Memories that smell armpit sweat

Are brooding all over my chest

Keeping me from what lies ahead

The pain is picking my atoms apart

All over again the crests and troughs

Like mutilated fingers and toes

Mother's tender touch 

Only can shake me up 

Left and right

Just ghosts in sight

Solace is claustrophobic now

But I'm indifferent to help somehow

Answers! I need answers!

Is there a way...

That I can say

NO to the aftermath?

-Rishika Chutani