I Feed On It
When I knew what triggers writing
Quite relieved, I fed on it, like twitching
To keep this tormenting treasure alive,
It‘d healed but still in it, I dive,
Ran over it again n again,
My blood sheds like the rain
But stared on it like a blind,
This catastrophe doesn’t need to remind,
An old melody is enough for me to be blown,
But now, yes these dried eyes don’t moan
This treasure of gone needs not to be awaken,
When mocked on lost charm, like bitten,
I just wear that smile, yes memory of compliments still fumbles,
Though dead, but not forgotten, it in my heart rumbles!
Copyright © Hina Nasir | Year Posted 2014
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