Creating Museums


View captured by Akshita Pareek


My poems spoke of

currencies, gravitation, algebra,

and agriculture

in seventh grade,

before they escaped

the classroom,

once.

They drank the cold air,

hopped and squealed,

gaped at everything

like penguins left open in

an American museum.


They started exploring the sections

with restricted access-

Emotions,

Crises,

Trauma,

Victory,

Fear,

trying to prick the timid corners,

fidgeting with clotted wounds,

opening dusty binders

containing pages stained

with ink, blood, and tears;

my poems sat unraveling

museums inside of me,

without asking for a key.


They fed on books and newspapers;

consumed around fifty-two chapters

and twenty pages,

everyday.

So, they worked faster

to design vocal cords

for each section

and then taught them to speak;

to cry, laugh, shout, howl, hoot and smile,

they taught them to have a voice.


Now my poems speak of

love, resistance, anxiety, and identity

through roses, stars, palms, and nose rings.

They speak to me,

speak through me

from the carpeted museum inside,

always under renovation,

always uncovering new sections,

always empowering me

to feel.

Akshita Pareek is a nineteen-year-old perfectionist with big dreams, trying to wade through her entangled teenage years. Studying is her coping mechanism and she can be found buried deep inside newspapers at odd hours of the day. An extrovert, dog lover, and travel enthusiast who finds her home in aesthetics and the poems she can create at any given time of the day.

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