i need to stop waking up angry. i need to stop waking up stuck in between sheets of guilt and last night. you will break my heart some day. your hands and your feet predict it to be soon. i forget that i am without a god. a state abundant in errors and imperfections that trace the hard surface like a desert floor. i am a flower with no roots. a pilgrim with no home. i am motionless.
i had anticipated this state of being. i had learnt the art of bandaging up broken pieces with words i could do it with my eyes closed. only my eyes dont close anymore. they stay in search of some sort of meaning. some relevance. some “yes” to a question no one asked. some eternity and constant infinity that rises with the morning sun.