By Srishti Sachdev
In times gone by,
I used to be tender like the petals of a flower,
in a phase where a child hasn’t yet learned the meaning of rancor.
And then I met someone who made me realize a flower has thorns too
And a child can someday become a she.
And when he and I were together,
I studied him like my favourite genre
like he was etched in every corner.
So, I never resisted the urge to romanticize
the hidden toxicity in his words.
There, in the hidden chambers of my heart resided a little detective
that had commissioned my brain to collect
and
remember
every single detail
of him
But little did I know that those memories would be out for blood,
instead of euphoria,
they will bring me to road trips of agony.
By Srishti Sachdev
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