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Mar 2014
It's 2am and her mind wanders.
She thinks about the things she could have done.
The words said wrong.
The battles she could have won.

She goes back and relives those moments.
Moments when she was miserable
Moments that made her smile
She pens them down and tears wipe the ink away.

She thinks of the people who left her
The people who never stayed.
The people who used her like a tissue
The people who threw her out of their way

It's 3am and her mind still wanders
She thinks if the people whom she holds close to her heart are actually close.
She thinks if anybody cares.
She thinks if people know the real her.
And all she can think of is big no.

She thinks of the tears shed.
Her skin with cuts she fed.
Her memory is indeed her greatest enemy.
Mehar Bawa
Written by
Mehar Bawa  Delhi
(Delhi)   
742
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