Monday, 23 July 2012

One Day

And just when bone deep exhaustion
In my soul clamours for a break from it all...
A gusty wind picks up, and whooshes through
The curtain, that partly opened window;
The one I tried to shut. Tight. 
And out billows tendrils of not just
My stringy hair...
But labored threads of threatening thoughts.
The "What If"s, the regrets, the tiny tenacious lichen-like
Scabs of memories. Of another day. 

This gutsy gusty thing. I wish I could be it. 

23 July, 2012

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