For someone like me to cry
During my nani’s cremation time—
Me– a person who doesn’t get attached
Is a new feeling to me as someone so detached.
For someone like me to cry
During my nani’s cremation time—
Me– a person who doesn’t get attached
Is a new feeling to me as someone so detached.
I want to bury my face in your chest,
Cry my heart out when the pain returns.
This is how my healing completes at its best
When anxiety, betrayal, heartache take turns.
I didn’t know what love is
When the fire in me was ignited
Whenever I caught a glimpse of your eyes
Back in our school days.
On the days I am overshadowed by an insecurity,
One of the days when I look in the mirror,
Trying to love myself when I don’t see the beauty in me,
Hold me tight in your embrace; love me a little harder.
They say that it’s just a phase.
They say that people change.
I won’t deny, I will change too.
I will become even more obsessed with you.
I live in a small world
Where live a selected set of people.
Making them happy makes me jiggle.
She was once made to feel so conscious
That she became too cautious.
Now, she doesn’t care as much
About the judgements of others.
The first time I noticed a boy’s eyes were his.
I admit that they were quite hard to miss.
They were the first of his things that came to my notice.
But somehow, I brushed those thoughts off as amiss.
I feel touched out at times
So, I may sit a bit aside.
There is no issue on your side
Nor is there any on mine.
Continue reading