Shut shut I shut my eyes, for in the pitch-black emptiness, 
when my feet rush away past puddles of pain, 
in rasping rain that ruins the paints of the canvas of my life, 
it means to spend the rest of my remaining days embraced by the smothering arms of nights. 

For my monochromatic shadow is immersed in shivering, harsh winds 
that keep shushing me to whisper tales of wrecked realities, 
as its currents cut up the screams of my calls. 
For that is how I lose—gasping—my breaths. 

Shut shut let me shut my eyes, before I turn my face up towards the sky 
to revolve in numbness, to sync with the raindrops 
that are but micro, scattering, crystal clusters that camouflage with my tears 
And slash my skin apart, for only then do I realise I am nothing but sorrow. 

For when I look down, the rain in me falls till I drown, 
as the yacht of misery over this deepened 
sea sails towards invisible horizons, 
tethering along with it, my scarred soul. 

Shut shut let me shut my eyes, for even though 
the dawn confiscating the dusk's shades of greys arrives,
there is no place for me, a nocturnal, in bright lights, 
for I keep listening to the sobs of all the world and sink deep down into darkness to hide within my blind sights. 

Shut shut I shut my eyes, yet like a scintillating daydream, you appear nearby, and tap your feet to give me a twirl before you slide me—hanging—down by resting your palms on the small of my back. 

Slowly, the tip of our noses touch and I open my eyes to see myself flickering like fire in the mirror of your eyes. That's how you show me that I am my own light, as the rainy nights sparkle behind and slither by.

Ayesha Amen Oysharya is a poet and has performed in CampusxDS Books Slam Poetry Nights.