Strength Reframed
She is scared to go out and then she claims It's danger,
She is scared of real intimacy and then she says they all want the same.
The girl wants to recalibrate but she is stuck in a bad memory that told her she wasn't loved but exploited,
She wants to move forward but she keeps repeating attracting the same who wants her body not her soul.
She wants to whisper her soul's story but she couldn’t find anyone who can listen to her thoughts,
But, it seems she is looking for something miraculous.
But, whatever finds her way somehow comes out to be malicious.
She looks into the infinity and it seems to her It's her imagination,
She is happy in her
bubbles of imaginations.
She is safe there.
No harm.
No delusions.
But, now at the end of the day she understands the demons of her imaginations are eating her- alive in a grotesque manner,
Gradually and slowly she is turning grey-
An assemblage of sophisticated shroud shrugged with peace and nightmares.
She screams her lungs out for a connection,
But, she avoids the same that suffocates her in silence.
She has been living in a fortress and she kept telling herself- It's safe.
It is there a little ounce of hope and removal of despair.
But, days comes and goes,
Life moves on in It's rhythm,
Some days she is successful,
Some days she is not,
But, each busy hustling days she remains the same- the undivided unattended uncrushable soul.
She says she is perfect.
Crushing down under the weight of her works,
Under the rubble of daily affairs,
Some days she believes she needs a companion,
Other day, she is scared of reptilians and scorpions.
They keeps returning in cycle,
Before the arrival,
And, after departure.
She is scared of the pauses after the runtimes and showdowns.
She doesn’t want to go slow nor does wants to run faster.
She is loving her pace and space,
And, her own speed,
She was attacked with spades and shades,
Now, she doesn’t rush towards the hues of blue and silver linings of the rainbow prisms.
You know Adrian,
Some people lives by their tragedy,
Sorrows give them strength,
The gloomy morning brought by mourning is then turned around with bronze golden sun rays,
They have recognized the patterns,
Their inner rhythm,
They know what and when they feel,
They have a set of rules and roles to play.
In their bounds they are stuck,
In their minds they escape-
In the imaginary grass field where they live freely in love and fiery passion.
The cold nights turns into blazing fire,
Two sparrows started kissing eternally when they know this flame will burn them forever.
©® Farheen Akter Bhuian Nancy
Timestamp: 2.06 pm, T-4
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