If you ever wondered what do I sound like
and pictured me like untamed winds on rainy nights,
humming melodies in chorus with raindrops
and spilling dulcet tones off holy concert

Or contemplated I would be as synchronized
as the sound of a calm water fall,
off a sharp cliff erupting euphony
every time its hits the bottom in a xylophonic fashion

Or believed I would be as patient
as a cuckoo reciting her syllables religiously,
calling out to her mate every evening,

let go

Let go your fallacious thoughts.
I am not a piano, violin, xylophone, flute or a guitar
I am
A tender heart who squeaks like squirrel
when exposed to unprecedented depths of uncertainty.

An introvert who sounds like a voice narrowed down into a tunnel
cascading echo in batches when exposed to unfamiliar faces.

A small town girl who orchestrates her crescendo in vain
when the slightest ray of hope is felt.

A fearless soul singing silently while her hands spill cacophony
when exposed to prejudiced ways.

A fiery lover whose heart beats on high tempo of passion
and spill music off desires.

Come in, know me better.

-Pallavi