~~            c            l
           y                        a 
         c                          c  
                l              i
                         
        
storms in my teacup
one every day
something  to fuss over
just for this instant, just to forget
a chain-clanging ghost that lives
in the haunted mansion in my chest
                                                           ­                                           to dilute the hurt
                                                            ­                                       so I can get drunk on it
                                                              ­                                    sacrifice my consciousness
                                                   ­                                              on the altar of emotionality            

                         and then wake up suddenly one morning
                                to realize that this is silly
                                       to weep over illusions
                                                  that i’ve kept myself deluded

there aren’t any storms anymore
just me
and
you
and
happiness

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   25.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish