Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Pritika Oct 2014
Mere concept of childhood fascinated her,
Games that her friends played attracted her,
Memories of others hinging on comical anecdotes captivated her.

Endless discussions of the 'good times' made her meet solitude,
Scarcity of happiness made her meet darkness,
Perennial realisations of sorrow made her meet regret.

She detested the way life abused her childhood,
She hated the way life snatched the chance of having memories,
She envied the way life didn't let her know 'fun'.

She regretted her existence,
For she never had a chance of being happy,
Of being free like a bird,
Of being independent and satisfied.

She was a girl,
Who grew up in the most atrocious of times,
Who faced the loneliest of nights,
She's the girl, who grew up, before it was time.
Pritika Sep 2014
Exalted as it was, she couldn't help but stare at the sunlight that dramatically kissed the ocean waters; the majestic sky that boastfully displayed its vivid million hues; the perennial water that compassionately became home to a billion creatures; the vibrant fishes that danced and sang, jumped and swirled. The scene enraptured her mind. It was as if she had consumed a bottle of a 1964 scotch. It was as if she was given a psychedelic drug to catch a glimpse of an aesthetically blissful scene.
Entangled in the cobweb of tranquil ephemera, she opened her arms to embrace the beauty she saw. The realisation she acquired and the one she hoped to acquire were like chalk and cheese. There, at that moment, she woke up with drool on her face and pillow in her arms. The alarm clock beeped '6AM', and the magical world she was in, bid adieu to her.
Pritika Aug 2014
A new introspection incited within this body of mine,
When he left early that one morning;
As I lay naked in the bed,
Wrapped within the white sheets
A gut-wrenching feeling irritated me.
Whenever I saw the bed sheet so tightly enveloping the bed,
It seemed as if the bed and the sheet were soul mates,
For they never separated from each other
This perennial intimacy was something I couldn't get,
Because what I did,
And what time made me do,
Was sit in the lap of a stranger every night,
And show him fallacious pleasure.
Every day, new people, new demands and new currencies
But that one morning was different,
As I got out of the bed,
I looked at the mirror,
The reflection of my **** body fascinated me,
Unlike most days, when I used to callously judge my body,
For the natural flaws that hid my smooth pale white skin,
That morning was different.
I kept staring my body for hours and hours,
It made me daydreamy,
It made me feel as if contentment finally knocked my doors,
I felt beautiful,
I felt strong,
And, and I felt perfect.
That one day,
I could see Aphrodite smiling,
Pandora breathing,
And Athena pondering,
It was my body
A harlot’s body,
There was no regret,
Just delight. Just delight.

— The End —