Merely Words

By Ishika Aggarwal

Mere words puked out thoughtlessly, 

Enveloped in the ephemeral blows of laughter,

Masking countless pointless rebukes 

To dry those saline pearls, oh so heavy,

Draping her eyes so blue.

Mere words, they were,

Superficially implanted in her own ceaseless maze 

Of thoughts and critique, all tangled and knotted,

‘Was it all really a joke? Why am I so different?’

The deep abyss of her heart inked deep red.

They were no more mere words, 

They were bruises and blemishes, 

Delved blue black deep into her skin,

Yet occluding and deterring her means to feel,

A smile too excruciating, teardrops facile.

They were no more mere words, 

They were strangely arranged letters on a screen,

Mocking and perturbing,

Mercilessly typed on keys of plastic,

Yet her eyes once again rheumy and arcane.

They were mere words too,

Accompanied by pats on the shoulder,

Warm hugs of reassurance, 

Caring caresses of her dishevelled hair,

Attention and ears all for her.

Mere words, they were,

The ones to which her lips curved upwards,

To which, she could hear her own giggles,

Her bruises now scars, pridefully so,

Her eyes gleaming in the daylight,

The daylight of her newly found haven,

Abound with hope and bliss, 

Harboured huefully in the once dark abyss,

All ‘cause of some benevolence and love,

Some sensitive, considerate mere words.

By Ishika Aggarwal