I am a free soul, yet I choose to hide my emotions and feelings anonymously behind the curtains. They reside there within the darkness. hide behind while soaking all the pain. dark blood and extreme sadness ghost there. a new guest entering the doors of fears let to certify them.
For how long you ask? They have built-in a home. An apartment, an empty room of dead howling spaces. The void that resides in, has created walls for the storms that profound the emptiness of fragility. The album of my own cries doesn’t rhyme with the colors of tales anymore.
My breath, the silver lining of cages have begun to rust. They don’t let to catch the smoke of magic. Each day feels numb. I am restless. Each night, a single word I utter within the dark shadows- I see the suitcases of solace unsettling inside me.
The echoes around me have started to reload into a numbered sequence. Whenever I try to pluck my sadness from the garden of hope, the pain that lies beneath crushes me abruptly.
My lungs are now, the fresh balloons of lies. Which, after each passing day, makes me empty from inside. The air is failing to resonate. A fake smile that I carry is just an arc of hope, I am left with. Petal by petal, it too- shatters.
Written By: Radhika Darshetkar.
Bio: I take a brush each afternoon and paint the little clouds with the colors of tales, dreams, hope, and magic! Hello, I am Radhika Darshetkar. I hail from Goa, India. One of the co-authors for “With Love, a 100 unsent Letters”. I wrote my first poem in 7th grade and since then, a pen, paper, and a palette full of ideas keep me going! Thank you. Sunflowers, your way