Misleading. Thats what life is , these days.
She doesnt know the destination ,
She cant find the path familiar.
Usually , she knew every piece of it.
As if it were a jigsaw puzzle and the answers lied in her heart.
They told her - '  Follow your heart , dreams and all.'
It doesn't beat with passion anymore , her heart i mean.
She cant recognize the thumping of her heart.
It beats faster now ,
Though she wonders why she doesnt feel alive.
Like the five month old message ,
Lying beneath the drafts of your mails.
Adressed to that one broken love ,
Her emotions are equivalent to that now.
With the real colors , laid unstructured ,
In the hope of a revival.
And as she gets herself to sleep ,
Trying to keep up with all those body atoms,
She wonders if the adrenaline will keep pacing forth , If its usual now?
She assumes if it accumulates ?
The thought is provoking and intimidating at the same time.
But what if the secretion will burst her up?
She finds the thought relaxing.
She is happy now.
She hopes that the next sun would be the last her eyes gets to meet.
She sleeps now.