untitled

 my eyes are blank with quiet contemplation
i am unraveling
the cacoon of comfort crying beneath my feet
i begin again.




what is it about mirrors that are so distracting?
is it that we are forced to look at ourselves so clearly
so intimately
so deeply,
an act of forceful introspection
of violent denial
of silent acceptance
you are not what you thought you were
you are not who you think you are

you never were.





on a rainy afternoon, i tell my dad what i think about the rain
i tell him that i appreciate how the rain leaves the smell of renewal and revival
i think of how thunder storms cause damages and floods
i do not realise that these too are necessary for change





what if i could physically change anything about myself 
at any moment
last week, i would have changed my tummy
it would bulge less and shrink more and never make itself known

last year, i would have changed my hair
it would be straighter, less kinky, less loud, more manageable, more convenient

last month, i would have changed my mind
it would be devoid of any illness, and imbalance. i would not need medication
i would not need to retreat into myself everyday for solace or comfort or reassurance
it would be clean, functional, sane

today, i would look at my mind
i would look at how it creates, how it feeds my body
how it never forgets to remind me to breathe 
how it never forgets to remind me to rest

i would look at my hair
how its kinks and coils settle so serenely on my head
i would look at why i ever wanted it to lower its voice
why i ever needed it to be convenient




All written by me. I'm finally writing again and it feels really good!




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