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The shadow
of my personality
seemed to
mar their brightness.
I retreated to the darkness instead.

Johannesburg, 2020



I was fishing for answers
       - in the murky waters of depression.

Al the fish of meaning
I extracted.
looked emaciated
and weak.

I put them back into the pond,
hoping that one day,

when I looked for answers again,
they would come swimming, again.

They would come for my bait of questions
       - being fatter and older;
more useful now,
more nourishing and filling.

Sufficient for the void that the hunger
of my questions have created.

Johannesburg, 2020


I don’t think I was that afraid
of heights or germs or even
of intimacy.

I was afraid of the most probable,
likeliest, most commonplace thing

of all:

Johannesburg, 2020

Shiksha Dheda is a South African of Indian descent. She uses writing to express her OCD and depression roller-coaster ventures. Sometimes, she dabbles in photography, painting, and baking lopsided layered cakes. Her debut poetry collection, Washed Away,  is forthcoming from Alien Buddha Press.

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