27- April -2019
It’s dark here. The cyclone is expected to hit the near-by places. Cyclone is coming and going and coming and going. It is no longer a guest who comes once in a year or years. My face darkens along with the sky. I wonder why? And I look into myself. I’m totally messed up. Hair, dishevelled. My shirt, so damn loose and the damn buttons keep a long distance between them to expose my body. Isn’t it shame to admit that I don’t use bra ? Because my boobs are tiny and not interesting. It didn’t matter to me, but now it matters like… I don’t know. Apart from the ugly look, I’m on my period, and lazy. I’m tired of being a woman and cleaning, even though I’m just 20 years old. 20 years old ?? I am, but I don’t look like. Yes! I’m a child. I’m cursed by a witch to be 20 years old.
One of my well-written poems is published in an anthology, and it has been the bestselling book on Amazon for few days. I’m supposed to be happy, aren’t I? All of a sudden, tears spill out, and an urge to scream out pops up. I don’t want anything. I don’t want anything. I just want to feel alive and fresh. My face is red, and I wipe it off with water, water, water.