The Girl In the Room
The girl in the room doesn't crawl backwards on the floor of her room, she doesn't chop her hair off in edgy disfigured shapes to contain all the leftovers of her being.
The girl in the room is normal.
As normal as an overcooked khichdi, you'll eat it anyway because it's a medicine.
Let alone ponder about it's beauty.
The girl in the room is reading news about a city known for the number of innocent
dead bodies it produces every year due to a war.
Noone really talks about survival in these cities anymore, only escaping.
Why do most humans find war stories interesting ?
The girl in the room reads news to draw relatability with normalised war zones.
The girl in the room, prefers quilts regardless of weather, she has mastered the art of a childhood game.
She seeks hiding.
Like she hides here, in this poem
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