Whispers of the Heart
It's been days since I have written anything, was busy matching the real and reel
I smile when I catch eyes on me,
hiding my pain,
separating the alphabets of day and night;
unbinding my thoughts from my poems.
"Does it matter? ; Will it matter?"
are now out of the drawer
I know nothing would change till I do myself.
No loop holes, no magic shall happen
till I push for a breakthrough
but there is a glass not half empty instead
broken into pieces invisible to all but me.
Wondering why was she sent with
groundbreaking ability to survive
Live and live but to live like death
A Lost soul with a weeping heart
and a smile plastered on,
telling a happy story in hell.
I am not writing anything these days
My fingers may bleed
but I am out of band-aids.
~ Shreshtha Mishra
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