• vishakhasarkar 10w

    Some days I hold a rose stem
    to let the thorns prick me,
    somedays I long to be loved,
    more than I long to live.
    Some days I hate my dreams
    for being too good to be true,
    somedays I feel homeless,
    even in the place I call home.
    Some days I contemplate
    everything that I hold,
    some days I tumble with grace,
    a little too fearlessly.
    Some days I crave chaos
    and bury my peace,
    some days I walk into the storm,
    knowing it will ruin me.
    Some days I try to grow love
    in the infertile hearts,
    somedays I walk miles,
    while standing perfectly still.
    Some days I look for crystals
    in a pile of debris and
    some days I chase the wind
    breathlessly.

    ©vishakhasarkar