I search
frantically
almost
insanely
for something
to believe in
I hold on
to strands
of a memory
of a minute
I hold on
to little nothings
like a beggar would
hold on to
a God who’s
been very unkind
I repeat you
like verses from
a sacred hymn
Over and over
in my mind
I preach and practice
you like a religion
unwilling to accept me
in its arms
I run around,
my arms flailing,
Godless, religionless
for you are not here.
…..
– Ananya Maheshwari
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