Divya · Maps

Maps by Divya

I am a map.
The topography of my body,
A perfect mishap.
I am a map.

I am a map.
The fossils of my collar,
No longer to be seen.
Buried deep within the loose
Sands of my skin.
I am a map.

I am a map.
Breaking out
With indents and craters
In all the wrong places,
Failing to form some pattern.
I am a map.

I am a map.
Bromidic. Unoriginal.
A blueprint
Amongst blueprints
Amongst blueprints.
I am a map.

I am a map.
With outlines of
Two hemispheres.
But insides askew.
As though the only symmetry that exists
Is between my body
And its reflection.
I am a map.

I am a map.
Where most of my lines
Are dotted and doubtful.
Where there is no
Perfect.
Just incomplete.
I am a map.

I am a map.
Where the compass
Is my mind.
Giving me directions
While I remain entrenched.
I am trapped.

I am trapped.
The latitudes and longitudes
Choking me,
As I am forced to remain within
The Grid.
I am trapped.

I am a map.
Wishing to be anything
But flat.
I cannot be the world.
At least a globe?
But in this world,
Maps cannot be globes.
I am a map.
And, I am trapped.

 

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