New | TSC Poetry | Abhishek Anicca

artwork via Wikimedia Commons

 That’s a match


In my fantasies


I draw you 

with a pencil


I draw myself

with an eraser



Still, a joyous occasion



I allow the sun

to embark on a festival

celebrating me


and then I stay in bed


if I should






I had to be loud.


I was tired

of waiting for the world

to lower the volume of silence.





I grow older on lonely afternoons

finding white noise

in meaning





moss seeks permission

to grow on me


they have mistaken me

for an abandoned space



 Dead weight


I don't want to carry

the gifts you gave me

from city to city


One day 

I might not want to remember you.





Mother says she doesn't mind.

She finds fulfilment as my carer.


I mind. And perhaps that's why 

I can't find fulfilment in being disabled.





This summer was the season of loss -

lost home, lost city, lost friends,

nearly lost my life.


Gained ten pounds.


Abhishek Anicca is a writer, poet and researcher. He identifies as a person with locomotor disability and chronic illness which shapes his creative endeavours.

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