I WISH I HAD TITLED

Padmaja
12 B

It happened earlier
Well before I started understanding
Well before I knew the definition of confession I went ahead along the way
The way that took me along with it
It never did stop
Nor did I ever thought it would It never did.
I went into it-deep
Never knowing what I was searching for
I never even realised I was 11
Young still Still oblivious of almost everything
Still oblivious of how trees shed their leaves
Or how eyes make an unspoken conversation.
I followed my heart – My brain didn’t work well.
I stood at that door, Alone inside stood a figure I stood at the door
Gazed a while
Something was feeling heavy inside
I turned back and went away.
Be it mind’s creative imagination
Or the symmetry of balancing
Or the inconsistency in thoughts
They now stand stiff on a pedestal of unfortunates
I failed to be an architecture of my own story
The story that could have had a different slope
May be because I forgot my soliloquy
The heavy torrent doesn’t fall now
Nor do the rains obey my secret wishes
I am- I am left in solitary confinement
The feathers of hope now melt
Shattered in all directions
My aspirations face an invalidation.
It was heavy before , and is no less now
It was a thicket before,now a forest
It was about thickness earlier,now it’s distance
It was on display earlier,now it sells
It was affinity earlier Now it’s all disjoint
Everything is allege
The smell called me often
But I was never allured.
After being ambidextrous to that figure
And to my intentions
I become an anathema to myself
I wish I did more than –
That unspoken conversation

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