Distant
She didn’t know how to speak
at first.
There were eyes,
tired eyes,
no words.
Then words came.
Daughter,
friend,
lover,
wife,
mother.
A little conversation
for every role.
Each role
asked for more
than it gave.
She kept speaking,
trying to stay present,
slowly leaving herself behind.
Then,
somewhere,
the words fell short.
Same people, still.
Same bonds, somehow.
Broken sentences.
She isn’t silent now.
Just distant.
The one who once
walked out of silence
now returns
to it.
Where did her conversations go?
Or maybe,
she simply stopped
answering questions
no one
was truly
waiting
to hear.
©Chitra Arun
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