Writertalks - Vanshika Singh

I've had a serious midlife crisis,

like a thorn sticking out of a soft rug,

that spike of dust, bothersome bug,

In the corona stricken world,

a mad woman longing for a hug.

"I don't know what to do with all the adoration I store inside for people around me!"

"Tell them! They'd feel good."

I shook my head, "That's not like me."

"Then what is like you?"

"Writing ambiguous symbolic poetries about them, that they barely understand. And feel smug about their obliviousness."

I've felt like the weight of this world

was lifted off my shoulders.

When I uttered those massless words

at that moment when I was bolder.

You ask me why I had it inside

why didn't I speak up before?

Am I being vocal from now on

and decide to hide no more?

It feels nice being unmute

but once in a while, I think.

The weight of the world has forced me

to draw it into words by my ink.

UNMUTE- Vanshika Singh

"Why so many poem?"

"Each one tells a story."

"Why not tell the stories instead?"

"You won't understand."

"I don't understand the poems either!!"

*chuckles*"That's not for you to understand!"

The absence of stuff to feel about,

I think,

is overrated.

Ask someone who feels so much,

that they have to write it on paper,

so it doesn't overflow.