Drowning in Silence

By Sloka Kadiyala

A step forward—

and I fall.

Into a river, or is it quicksand?

Feet searching, meeting nothing,

toes curling, wriggling for ground,

hands reaching out to air,

a cry for help slipping unspoken.

I’m sinking,

nose under the surface,

the weight pressing down,

slipping into my nose, my throat,

my clothes clinging, cold.

So this is pain—

nothing like I’d imagined,

nothing like I’d heard,

unlike anything I’d known.

Then, I’m back in my room,

a blade in hand,

a red pool gathering at my feet.

By Sloka Kadiyala