4.11 Open Water

Words by Ayeshaa Mohan
November 2021

Lines about human dependence on everyday objects for comfort.

At my lowest, 

she cradles me in her soft arms. 


At my best, 

she gives me a surface to jump on. 


The corners of her clothes have wiped my tears, 

as her body continues to bear more stains.


And the edges of her drape

hide vivid souvenirs from my nightmares.


In her head, my laughter still echoes

while shut somewhere in her locked memory,

I cry, howl and bellow. 


She continues to knit more drapes with my secrets

and in their comfort lives my innocence and guilt. 


It is with her that I’ve laughed, screamed and healed.

A part of me is in her - my Bed.  

Illustration by Jishnnu B

About Mysticeti's friend:

Ayeshaa Mohan
 is a 16-year-old aspiring writer from Delhi. This is a poem from her journal.