They say all angels have soft skin And wings made of white They say they tread lightly And spin gold through the mere sound of their voice But they don’t tell you About the tearing of the flesh when the wings come How you never know how dark blood really is until it is all over your hands They wanted me to be soft, to be vulnerable But look how much that has taken from me They don’t tell you how you’ll lose count of the hours spent Rubbing the dead of you I am Sisyphus Forced to roll this boulder over and over without breaking even a frown I should tell you to use your voice Because one day you’ll look up and it will no longer be there Anubhuti is a high school senior living in the hot bowels of Mumbai.She spends her time fretting over things she should probably be doing right now and musing over inconsequential things. However, when she finds pockets of peace in her busy schedule(fretting and musing) she can be found writing or reading. Comments are closed.
|
Archives
November 2023
Categories
All
|