Her shoes
Small and pretty ones .
She said u had no clue what my blue shoes are going through .
She had a shoe bite ,
She was uncomfortable .
The shoe soul weak holded just came out .
What the hell !!
She looked down at her feet with black eyes
She was worried .
Her innocence and beautiful face lost the charm
She cursed herself for the shoe she wore .
Brought a day just before from a big  shoe store .
She loved her little tiny ones and the branded trust
A mere 2 days and the pair went bust !!
I had no clue what to do ?
As it was raining outside  
Seeing her misery , i didn't feel cool  and I was worried about her humble feet .
Going barefooted along the road could not be fun .
Cellotape all over shoes was only idea left and looking for cobbler the another one .
Walking down  the street with broken shoe
I felt for her ,but nothing i could do .
With her walked in the shoe shop , she was blessed .
New pair and the smile on her face .
I said just chill and be happy , u got to share this moment with me bcz we haven't talked in a while .
She reminds we have to go home soon .
We rushed for the train .
She was happy though , no crowd , she could seat and  reach home . Waved my hand  and I could only  give her good wish .
All along the way I was thinking about her , had a laugh too but what if I would have gone through !!
She thanked me and was happy with her new shoes .
Indeed me too .
A day to be remembered .
                                                   - Suhas Ghoke

i hate being so far away from my mémoires. i hate not being able to remember how i felt that second, that fleeting moment. all i remember is the blurry anxiety of feeling like i need to enjoy every single bite or the food will be wasted. two weeks later, i've been diagnosed with alzheimer's disease and i have no idea who i really am.
maybe i talk about being emotionless because the present is always running past, barely bumping my shoulders  (and not apologising, how rude) on the way to the bus stop, i'm always late. the second the minute passes it is lost forever in a sea of murky brown, of jumbled up thoughts that i can't piece together. i've completely run out of cellotape, there is nothing left to stick together so i press undo, undo, undo, until i am barely recognisable.
"those who are emotionless once felt too much".

Have you ever kept a scrapbook?
silver slippers dangling in the sun
or have you ever seen that golden knowing

your memories could be temporal keepings,
that collage was only yesterday's decision

Those stet pictures are only a cellotape preservation away
Their meanings have been prolonged