by Shloka Shankar

I don’t remember
growing up in this city.
Two decades adding up
to nothing.
A faceless humanoid
craving for the same things
as everyone else.
I try repeatedly to fall
in love with you.
But I only remember
the skid marks on my heart
that haven’t healed.

PHOTO: “Cows, Bangalore, India” by Niels Photography. Prints available at


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Shloka Shankar is a freelance writer residing in India. Her work appears in over two dozen international anthologies, including The Dance of the Peacock, Emanations IV, The Living Haiku Anthology, Family Matters, and publications by Paragram, Minor Arcana Press, Harbinger Asylum, Kind of a Hurricane Press, and Writing Knights Press among others. Her poems, erasures, haiku & tanka have appeared in numerous print and online journals. She is also the editor of the literary and arts journal, Sonic Boom.