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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