At ten past two at night I push
sorrow out of ashen tongue, cigarette burnt lips,
stained sweater of blood, injury and sweat,
and spell T.R.A.U.M.A in hundred different
The mother commands homicide
of naked blisters and turgid wounds
before the stench of guilt reaches the shore
and screams breathless; I acquiesce.
Now every third Sunday after seven
satin sashes hide hidden sores
so that fine wine and finer lies can turn antidote again
I laugh ten times four every third minute
and count till five to stab at the heart twice
and pull out one strand after another
of hair lost to laughter lost to pain
and pull regret out of my skin
and hold it close,
until I choke.
And then at ten past two at night
demon slaying pills birth acrid truths
hold me by the neck
and force me to spell T.R.A.U.M.A
Sohini Chatterjee is an Editor at HYSTERIA: Feminisms Radicalism Periodical and Activist Platform. She is a poet and writer whose work has previously appeared in Coldnoon: Travel Poetics, Rag Queen Periodical, Quail Bell, Cafe Dissensus Everyday, Kindle Magazine, The Lookout Journal etc. Chatterjee holds an MA in International Relations.