In the liminal state of mind I often find myself in,
I see doors of ebony, mahogany and teak.
Gliding towards them on a sheet of incandescent affirmations,
I hesitate before knocking : elm, ash, oak or beech?
Eventually, I knock on the pine.
Soft under my calloused knuckles.
And I hear it, that whisper.
The whisper of the voice inside my head.
The voice I sing haunted lullabies to,
The voice that voices my regrets.
It cradles me in its motherly arms,
A sensation so unfamiliar enveloping me.
It soothes my skin with warmth and comfort,
Slowly filling the void in me with benevolent sins.
And although I know she sedates me,
This cruel honey-like voice.
In my liminal state,
She grounds me to the harsh reality,
While gently allowing me to transcend time and space.

-Megha Bhartiya, InkSoakedSoul πŸ’œ

Β© Megha Bhartiya,

11 thoughts on “Liminal

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    1. Ah never a fan, always a friend!
      I’d love to make friends in this lovely blogging community rather than fans.
      Your comment has really touched me. To even consider me worthy of having a fan?
      Thank you so so much!

      Liked by 1 person

  1. What a beautiful expression in words. The transitional quality of the liminal mind is captured beautifully in the use of a doorway or passage. That unique moment of time when we exist on both sides of an event. The person we were before and the person we are after. Well written and much enjoyed!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ah, I love how you grasp my thoughts behind a piece and word them so stunningly itself.
      You understood this piece the way I thought about it when I was writing and it has made me so incredibly happy. =)
      Thank you so so much for taking the time to read, understand and giving me such heartwarming words Brad!

      Liked by 1 person

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