Have you ever tried ironing out your life
From the creases of a shirt
Becoming un-stuck and un-tucked
In the tailored circumference
Which can no longer hold all of you in
There are dreams running wild
At the split ends of every strand of hair
Not in its place
But surrounded by a windy chaos
Trying to spell out a lack of care
My words aren't coloured right
Nor do they talk of weather
And the life and times of strangers
I walk through the breezy disorder of your days
Comfortable in my unconcern of your ways
Till you notice
And hand out your disapproval
At times, your amazement
Not that I need either one
We see differently
My eyes dig far deeper into the skin
Right to the soul
Right to the soul
Yours get tangled up in the creases of my shirt
No wonder that you cannot find me.
wow, that image of the shirt was so beautiful.... amazing as always enigma.... i picture this being recited while a protagonist walks home alone on a snowy evening
ReplyDeleteThanks, Suyash! This is quite autobiographical. It is an everyday struggle to turn up outside the house in a groomed and presentable manner. I am just not up to the task. haha. :)
DeleteThanks for such a wonderful comment.