Let go of our fears

We’re the personification of irony, all of us
We’re afraid of being alone, and yet whenever we’re faced with a problem,
or simply overwhelmed,
We’re too proud to say we’re not okay
Instead, our first instinct is to hide,
Because we want to deal with it on our own
Beause we simply refuse to believe that anyone could actually help
Because we don’t want anyone to see that speck of vulnerability in us
Our fences of insecurity and self defences have become giant impenetrable walls
We cannot think, cannot see through it
Or probably just won’t
With a variety of excuses in our arsenal
Ready to shoot down any rational arguement that tries to break through
Because taking a leap of faith has broken us instead at some point in life
But what we don’t get is that it’s not the decision of letting in that was wrong as much as the person we actually let in
That we failed to notice the ones who not only could but actually did have our backs
And thus we let the ripple effects of our mistakes hold us back further
Because we want people to beleive in us without the heart to let go of our fears

Whatever it takes

I think and I think and I think

Nothing helps, no matter what I drink

Sticking out like a sore thumb, is it really that bad?

Being okay with it, why does it make them mad?

They try and try to blend you in, to get lost in the crowd

So when you realise you’re truly lost, does it make them proud?

The guilt it instills in you, the endless rounds of questioning yourselves,

Even the lost will to exist , to breathe , to stand up for ourselves,

But don’t let your ideas and efforts get abashed in the name of potential mistakes

Rip the pages of belittlement and let them sing of your triumphs, whatever it takes!

Red

The colour of love, the colour of roses

But also as a symbol of danger it poses

A sign of life in the form of blood

Is there even a soul who dislikes it in the world?

The queen of sultry from dresses to cherries

And glossy lips , wine and strawberries

It can empower a woman, taking a spot on her forehead

Or make her impure, confining her for days to her bed

A control freak by nature, loves to be in charge all the time

It sets boundaries for even the rainbows that shine

Who else could dare stop vehicles on busy streets

Or make women too ominous for even God to greet !

A letter to myself

I want to write a letter

To the five year old me

Whose smile was brighter than sun that shined

With rosy cheeks and eyes too kind

Who knew perfectly well how to throw tantrums and fits

And such a devilish sense of humour, with none that could match her wits

Hoping to find the key to happiness she had

That let her be hopeful, even in situations that bad


I want to write a letter

To the ten year old me

Who loved everything around her selflessly and was instantly liked by all

Who was reckless and had not a care in the world as she knew no one would let her fall

Hoping to get back some of the confidence, fierceness and charm in her

That seems to have kept fading away, day by day, year by year


I want to write a letter

To the fifteen year old me

Who knew she wasn’t born to be confined in that small town that kept her tied

Who was so determined to spread out her wings and fly, that she couldn’t help and lied

Not just to her parents but also to herself, that everytime would be the last

And now their disappointed faces and the guilt have become the ghosts that haunt her past

Hoping to remind her how dearly she was loved and that she only had to ask

For help, for support, even a shoulder to cry on instead of hiding behind that mask


I want to write a letter

To the 20 year old me

Who will probably have began working a corporate job

Or figured out the hoax and with no way out be digging into the pillow to cover her sob

Hoping that I can provide her with a few words of comfort on such stormy nights

And remind her of the girl she was, of how bravely she fought all her fights

And despite everyone trying to tame her down, she stuck up for herself, for her dreams

Right or not, winning or not, she’ll always be the one constant player on her team!

She sells her body

Her glistening eyes that once were a calm ocean now behold a burning rage

Cover your legs they said, no crop tops they said, it’s not the right age

She ditched the stilletos for they were provocative they said

But that didnt prevent it from happening, nor did the saffron on her head

Neither the concrete structure she’d go for praying with flowers and her soul to offer

Nor did the society she desperately tried to fit in tried to take the pain off her

Her cries for help were answered by pretentious display of sympathy

But they soon dried up , along with the expectations of their empathy

It’s strange how she was left alone to fight her battles by herself

And now since she finally stopped trying and decided to give in to her fate

She sells her body they say

Got no morals, just a will and a way

She aint fit to live in our society they diss

Holding her guilty for enjoying such bliss ….