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Quote by Dr. Nitin Chopra

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Dr. Nitin Chopra

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“Now my blood is drying on the pillow. Now the man who held the knife is gone, elsewhere and undiminished. I can hardly remember anything about him. It can be difficult telling the size of something when it’s right above you—the average cumulus cloud weighing as much as eighty elephants. The things I’ve thought I’ve loved could sink an ocean liner, and likely would if given the chance. From my window, the blinking windmills seem further away than ever before. My beard has matted itself into a bloody poultice, and a woman’s voice on TV is begging for charity.”

“Lose me as you lost your cat, your bearings, your wherewithal, your identity. Lose me as you lose autumn each year to ice, as you lose a year each year. Lose me as you lose a little weight and your bones show. Lose me like a wet food dropped face down. Both earrings. Any key. Lose me like what blew off the ferry. Lose me like the dollhouse furniture you kept since childhood and in adulthood misplaced while moving. Lose me like your prize mountain you saw once and can’t remember where it was, what country. Lose me the way you lose fog. Lose me and fuck you.”