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Nikki Bombay

A Depressed Heart Is Not A Home


I felt no longing

To be pursued romantically

To be desired sexually

To share myself willingly


I understood this exchange

As a pertinent suffering

I wouldn’t allow myself

To express a state of longing


A yearning

I interpreted as desperation

I denied the touch of others

In the name of self-preservation


Protecting my already impure soul

Preventing the wounds from deepening

I found safety in vanishing and reappearing


I became an obscurity in other’s minds

I felt that belonging to anyone

Was impossible and useless


A peculiar selfishness

In the name of self- interest

I became unsociable

I stammered

In the translation of

My brokenness


How hurt I must have been

To push the pull of love

How hurt I must’ve been

To find refuge

In the dark void of my mind


A seemingly

Pleasant hiding place to grieve

Embedded in quiet moments

I would cry


I had a habit of inventing scenarios

Of love and bliss in my mind

These fairy tales fade quickly

A phosphorescent haze


What an insensible way of saying I needed to be held

What an imaginative way of saying I needed to be loved



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Nikki is a pleasure seeker living in the magical complexity of New York City. Her interests include interior design, film, and travel photography. She is a firm believer that life is meant to be lived by experiencing and loving fully.

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