A Thousand Times, You

By Ambika Sah

After traveling to mountains and oceans

You still wishper to yourself that if's okay to not be okay.

The sand which kissed your skin and those flowers you

plucked while climbing are still tucked inside your plam,

They feel heavy sometinmes

When you try to visit the memory lane

They feel heavy sometimes.

The Escaper

(2)

The grain of sand and the petals of that flower

which weigh your heavy breaths

Because you get tired of you.

You sit in a comer of the world, full of people

Your eyes wondering on each one of them

You feel the heaviness turn into water and moisten your eyes

You blame yourself for all the wrong choices you made

You blame yourself for all those missed opportunities,

For those smiles that were ripped off of you

You blame yourself for those hands, which dlid't reach you,

didn't hold you,

Why ? Because as difficult as it is to accept our mistakes

Is rather easy to blanme ourselves

Because we get tired of ourselves.

The Escaper

(3)

After traveling to couwntries and insignificant villages

You try to hide from the eyes which are always assuming

and a blink away from questioning,

And you want to be seen from the eyes

which never looked for you,

Funny isn't it?

When you replay everyting and try to understand every

word they say,

The Escaper

And they don't even listen to you.

Just then, t becomes so easy

The sense of being smallin the vast nothingness

Just then it becomes s0 comfortable

The sense of being an insignificant dream in the po0

reality.

After traveling from people to people,

You finally confess.

Pour your heart to those who seemed home away from home

You read about love and its ways,

You listen to love songs and try to memorize what it says,

But despite all, nothing readies you for the heart break that comes

People leave and now the love songs are mere noises, pleasant noises.

People walk away but leave their footprints behind as evidences of what

you've lost

They say time heals everything And I disagree.

Time tells a story and leaves you alone to decide the last move of the chapter.

And then at some poit, time leaves too.

To a different dimension, parallel or intersection?

The world is not aware yet.

You pick your pieces, cho0se the last move of the chapter if lucky enough

Pack your bags again,

to move from one to another, slower.

So after traveling to mountains and oceans

Countries and villages,

pretty faces and beautiful hearts

(4)

You whisper to yourself, smiling with diamond like moisture in youreyes

Its okay, not fo be okay.

lsn't it?

By Ambika Sah