TW: Eating Disorder

Words by: Sreemoyee Banerjee

"Time will tell, time will tell..."
The words play on a loop.
My strained eyes look for comfort
In the foam of my coffee,
Spiralling at its own will like it always has— 
And as I step onto the road,
The parallels shift like a metamorphosis of time and space.

Only, nothing changes.
The world freezes,
A breath of hot air stops from escaping my throat. 
A hint of mint cologne hits me —
And all that I had built from scratch breaks down 
Like a tapestry knit of memories,
Cobwebs in every inch and every gap,
Dust in every corner,
Wiped off, pulled apart.
I see a black hole in the flesh.

I see a black hole with skin like no other— 
Skin I had traced every inch, every cell of. 
Skin I could almost feel on my tongue,
A name attached to it that felt hot and murky, 
Syllable after syllable,
Tone after tone,
And tasted of days long gone.

I see a black hole that looks like you—
A tousle falling right on the forehead,
Eyes that hold pain in their gleam,
And fingertips with ink smeared all over, 
Fingers that look long and windy and hollow 
And wrap around someone else’s.

I see a black hole with a soul like no other—
A thumping, melodic heartbeat that speeds up with every walk, 
Every step taken by you, pairing like a puzzle piece with her,
A lump of beating muscle, proof that you exist,
All red and full of love
I wish I could feel it too.

I’ve spent hours defying time,
Jumping into pools and heartaches
Tracing my name on the backs of people I barely remember.

I’ve spent days drawing spirals on my skin 
Trying to forget how your eyes looked 
When they loved me and smiled at me,
The way your fingers brushed against mine 
And the way you slightly leaned against me, 
Whisper-kissed me with your stories
And told me you liked how I made you feel.

I’ve spent months defying your lips
And their way with words,
The way they scratched my soul and left it to bleed, 
The hours they spent defining me,
How they kissed mine,
And how they hated my body—
I didn’t eat for days.

And I see you.
Without a warning, I see you—
And the world somehow stops spinning.
The ground beneath me freezes at an angle and I nearly fall off. 
It’s roughly been a year, roughly more —
You are a macrocosm in flesh,
And everything I’ve done,
I’ve done for you.

Spiders crawl under my skin,
People pass by in a blur of colours in slow motion, 
And I see you with her.
You dismembered me completely
And squeezed the life out of my eyes,
But now you smile,
And the cold coffee looks up to me.

I see right through me—
Sharper ends and all seep through my skin,
Yet your skin is healed, and the clock has barely hit noon. 
I gurgled daffodils out of my throat and
You gnawed away all things fresh,
Yet you seem happy,
And I feel like a dead leaf on top of a grave.
You pass by my blind spot and disappear from me again, 
And I disintegrate into dust
Like the last sands in the hourglass of time —

Yet, the words play on a loop: 
“Time will tell, time will tell,
time will...
tell..."
And the world starts moving again.