Food on my plate
They start,
Initially, I thought
they were just words
Who would have thought
They were instilling curses.
Reaching my ears,
I tried blocking them
But like a piece of cloth
That soaks blood like its own part
I too soaked them and
Made them a part of who I am
The only difference was
blood can be washed
Words can’t.
In past, I would scream
And shout alongwith them
At present, i just have my plate
And I sit in silence
And watch them repeat the spectacle
The only difference between
My past and present is that
I was calm from within and made noise
To stop them
But today all I hear is the white noise
I don’t bother them
How can I?
When the turbulence goes within.
-A.
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Beautiful
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