Tuesday, 24 April, 2012

To self.


A few words that echo, the only smile with glistening teeth, the uncovered yawn and the sweaty forehead.

The cusp of the tissue, the rear-view mirror, miles marched or really?

Sleep deprived eyes, liked unlike, stalk and sulk, look around and then move rear.

A song of love, an always after all, the dry monsoon and the clock that did halt.

Interrogates the mirror, an unanswered self, then picks up a pen and sulks a little more.


4 comments:

  1. Who can describe pain better than you? Sigh! :*

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  2. Interrogates the mirror, an unanswered self, then picks up a pen and sulks a little more.

    the beauty or irony. :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Every story needs certain stationery to document it. She used her heart as one...

    ReplyDelete