Luna Ignis

Moon Fire

There are times when I cannot sleep. When my emotions get the best of me. The sadness and the anxiety - hurts too much to breathe. But then words come to the rescue. They are always ready to march to the battlefield. My hands take too long to listen. But I always find a pen and make it through.

It’s weird. The body is weird. She talks to me, but I don’t listen to her. I doubt her signals. My feet tell me they are cold. But I wait till they freeze and make my entire body shiver.

Then I observe Anshuman. Adjusting the heat, turning off the fan, fixing the temperature. I asked him, “Do you listen to your body signals right away?”

“Yes. Why not?”

“Don’t you have to figure out if it’s true or not?”

“Stop doubting yourself!”

What do you mean, I can trust my body? It won’t gaslight me?

Why would your own body lie to you, Arsh? I cannot find a reason.

Hmmmm..

The mind, body and soul - you gotta listen to them all. You cannot leave one out and still feel aligned.

The anger you have suppressed is stored in your body. Channel it or let it slide.

I asked Roy, a writer friend, “I am having a hard time with anger. How can I channel it?”

He pointed towards words.

I doubted again. This time, I doubted the words. Can they handle this? Will they help?

They laughed at me, “We have carried the weight of your grief, your sadness and heartbreaks, all in one page. Anger is not even a big deal. You underestimate us. Write - what you need to heal.”

So, I took my red pen and wrote this poem:

Is anger purple?

Is Violet the blood of violence

that I wear?

Is winter crying silently to

console my womb shedding tears?

Is love not enough?

Why is my freedom facing fear?

no, no, no eyes, you cannot let go!

I shall not waste my care.

Red ink holds my hand

and the sobs are near.

Behind the cages

of my own perception

lies an outcast.

She calls herself brave

is scared of her own past.

Bloody demons of the shipwreck

slaughtered the naive mast.

You cannot outrun your memories.

She lives inside your heart.

They blamed her for complying.

Cried, “It’s all YOUR fault.”

They say the body keeps score.

Yeah. For 20 years, she implored.

The theft of her childhood

how could she have ignored?

They stand in front of her to ruin her nearly perfect life.

Why does the body flinch now

after all these years?

What’s a better time than now,

to face all your darkest fears?

I borrow courage from the moon.

It only runs far till noon.

I get it. It’s all part of the plan. Everything happens for a reason. It’s inevitable to not change seasons.

But WHY?

Why did the innocence have to die?

Why did the heart pay the price?

Why a child?

Why her?

Why ME?

Why does the fire cast a shadow?

Why does the moon change light?

Why is the ocean full of salt?

All I can say is,

It was not your fault.