Lost And Found

By Nandini Khanna

Lost Ink

I lost my pen.

It was blue

and thin,

and now it’s gone with the wind,

with the words, with my mind.

I lost my pen.

Does it want to be found?

Does it want to be bound

to the words I think,

and feel?

With no pen, the words stay in my head,

swirl in the ink of my head,

tear at the skin in my head.

Does it want to be found?

resound inside my head.

Does it want to be bound?

Like a vortex round and round

down the drain of my brain.

I lost my pen.

I wish I lost my pain

instead.

Found Ink

I found my pen.

And it sits with me now, back

where it belongs, by my pain, by my bed.

The dull throb, an attack

on the mind no more.

A friend instead.

By Nandini Khanna