Release me

Release me from the grip of violence and sorrow,
they’ve trapped me in a nutshell –
the toxic hardened brown enclosing me,
layers and layers of nuanced acrimony containing me.
I flail and fail, I fail and flail, I flail, fail and flayed by fate
can’t escape, I’m pecking on my soul’s depravity,
there’s nothing left except a darkened kernel with
wooly lesions embodying the rottenness of all the times
I brawled with my father, overpowering him and unleashing
like a bruised, brainless pugilist who uses unmitigated aggression
never caring about a counter punch, the time I
almost OD’d on twenty Valiums and slapped my mother
when she tried stopping me from ending this meaningless
monstrosity we call something clichéd like ‘moving forward,’
all the times I’ve cut myself within with the sharpest edges
regardless of if addiction, self-ostracism, hate or drawing
from poisonous memory and loathing the world and myself
is the blade I’ve used; the lights in this room flicker and
the floorboards creak, the pain of falling, fading, failing,
flailing feels like the Biblical gnaw and burn, the everlasting,
eternal fire which these lines will meet one day,
thrashing and threshing with me, but maybe you I’ve never met
can release me, breathe love into me and look into my bloodshot eyes
and caress me with the graze of redemption.

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)

Protected by Copyscape

6 responses

  1. Dear Nitin, terrific use of structure/form and alliteration throughout this gut-wrenching piece, as is the capture of raw emotions and the brutal self-chastising manner of the narrator. Wow! You’ve shown us that good art does not have to be pretty. And all is not lost, I like the element of hope introduced at the end, suggesting this is not the end at all.

    “…but maybe you I’ve never met
    can release me, breathe love into me and look into my bloodshot eyes
    and caress me with the graze of redemption.”

    You have an incredible talent as a writer: the ability to move readers with your words. This is a very powerful poem. ~ Mia

    • Dear Mia,
      Thank you so much for such a beautiful comment. Brutal self-chastising poetry is flayed second skin now. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry about that! Yes, poetry isn’t beautiful and sometimes it drains you of energy because there’s always this counter punch when you aggressively use emotion to pen something down. I hope I find the hope I’ve written about and it doesn’t die with my lines. Wow! ;) Thank you so much for your encouraging comment.

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