A plague has infested the likes of my morale. I’ve stooped low, so low, that withdrawing myself from the guilt of expression seems impossible. Overlooked silences tend to morph into terrible misunderstandings. And from there on, starts an agonizing journey alone. Despite fractions of feelings and nostalgia, nothing can be done to redeem the morning glory. An overcast shadow that slithers away into past moments. At times, the unbearable ache forces the fears to subside into the background of conscience. Aptly, at this apex, lizards mean nothing but a creature of trivial proportions. Hence, you continue draining your hands and tears into the basin.
On ground one again, I felt like pouring out myself. But to no good use can a change in context be put, and that too with a repeated mistake. I should have learned by now. But being a woman, and most importantly, a human at heart, I fail to conform to the complicities of moments. I’d rather let them drag on till they can no longer hold a meaning.
Of intuitive dreams likened to sordid reality, I remain befuddled. The path of the former is mine not to take. The latter, despite being true, is the way of indecision and consequences. I remain hanging.