One hundred and twenty three more- chapters that remained unsung, in the room’s muggy corner. I cringed under the sheets as I liked the coherence with my indefinite pain. Better than ascertaining that it will remain untouched, unsung always.
He adored her desolation more, tearing apart those many luring pages.
It was that hour. Asphyxiating her hopes, wishes and choking the dreams till their limits, she was preparing, having no choice.
She was all set to give away a part of her flesh to the hungry land, cloaking the torment with a soft smile. The operation theatre felt smaller than it was, the world felt tinier yet she won over her psychologist’s will power. She felt as if she was being crammed in a box of stinging incidents, bestowed, specially upon her. The dilapidated flesh, suffused with gangrene was anaesthetized to be operated upon. When the surgical equipments pierced her flesh and cut her bones, she learnt to detach from every illusion that kept her stagnant. She wore her smile on throughout, even after she was detached from the limb, not a tear drop yet.
That was the moment when her perspective of beauty, wishes, hopes, activeness were redefined. Encountering death so close couldn’t have polished this gem better.
Now she knows how to rise above the dust, shattering any obstacle. It is for the rarest of the lot who get to live two lives. Sometimes it is as if the whole world is breaking down in front of her, barring her from exploring. It was hard, giving away the control of her body to the hydraulic system; needing a machine’s approval to walk.
Breaking down was a choice in life, but was never in her’s.
A feather fallen from a bird’s wing cannot hamper its flight, can it? The flesh that was ripped off carried away the happiness of many, in turn teaching how to live without complaints. One day, she asked me, “Is that why the society calls us specially-abled?”
spreading venomous fluid through my already frail
brutal secret demons in me
stunned I stood
savage inside mine
cut through his guts
to break scanty
cold blood flows down the blood-red roses
admiring the lethal
i still stand
unanswered will it be
his door half doomed
evil in me should slow down
half-open door should never shut for i can’t breathe his alluring venom
i need to survive composedly
in chaos that
he will appear if
Unmasked, I saw her in my dreams every night that bare beauter wilderness. Coveting over her ravishing visage, I hoped to meet her to possess her secrets. I loathed over my darkness. But we can never meet- when I sleep, she wakes up.
I’m the night and she’s the day.