An Oasis Named Isha

 

She’s not going to let me write this.

Here it’s a fire within.

A furnace outside.

Inhuman temperatures.

Abnormal conditions.

My mind is at break point.

My soul is smoldering.

 

And then her…

She sings a song of monosyllables.

Eats a crayon.

Gives a double toothed grin.

I like sort of melt.

She’s not just a cool breeze.

She is an Oasis.

 

I am living in Hell.

Among devils.

Demons.

Human look alikes.

Monsters that loot.

Hurt.

Maim.

Curse.

Wound me.

Tear my being to shreds.

Make me gag.

Won’t just let me be.

I am not paranoid

Or unreasonable

But I am living in hell.

That can taint your senses.

I freak out sometimes.

Go a little or a lot mad.

Feel crazy.

Just lose it.

 

And there she comes…

Crawling sideways

Looking up skeptically.

Trying to reach me

Across the pillow

Across the pain

Across the plunder.

 

I reach out

Hold her up.

She snuggles in my bosom

Wriggles her tiny body

Lets out a contented sigh.

I hold her tight.

My life line.

My support, strength.

The light in my dark tunnel.

The oasis in my desert.

The moon in my night.

My little god.

My little baby Isha.