Poetry

Take me home

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Heartbreak like this makes me yearn for comforts I never even had

The urge to bask in my motherland’s South Asian sunshine and feel warm rainwater splashing down my back

Elders calling me their child in Urdu, sending me to sleep with Indian head massages laced with coconut oil

Bare feet, long braids, eating food on the floor with my hands

Heartbreak that makes me want to start again in my mother’s footsteps because starting afresh in my own shoes won’t be enough to make me forget

Heartbreak that makes me wish I wasn’t here

So I start to daydream about not being here

Not being dead

But being reborn in the country that flows through my veins

Then I’d never have met you

And I can imagine I wouldn’t ever have to know what it feels like

To be heartbroken like this

 

 

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