I smell like an old dress,
Moth eaten and dusty.
Why would anyone wear me now?!
Perhaps I can exist as a mop.
Perhaps I can be cleaned up to look new again.
But who’ll do that for me?!
My hair’s undone, it’s more knots and less strands now.
If humans were tiny enough, they could have hidden in there to keep away from the vicissitudes of life.
But can they?!
The more I try to escape it, the less farther I go.
The bed is my new whereabout;
I seek refuge in my blanket everytime I get cold.
I stay warm in there till my eyes open again.
My mind- a labyrinth, has images of people, of things, yet I can’t see an image of me.
If only forgetting a lover who hurt you could be as easy as it is to forget who you are.
We’d all be better.
I feel like a shallow pond that allows you to take water from it but doesn’t let you in.
It’s summer outside the window, but it’s monsoon in my soul.
Coz everytime I look into my heart, I find it longing for being home.
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