Which Version?

By Radha Konda

I took my time to stay in the past,

Revisiting them one last time and reeling them

Into my memory tape, one after the other with care,

I know there's darkness, a ginormous friend,

Who collected all the loneliness and made herself,

But also endless light, a fluffy, always gay friend,

Who collected brightest of bright in my mischief,

There's also a fearless friend, who was was ever ready

To get her fallen self back up, dusting away proudly,

There's also an anxious friend, waiting to bite

Her nails in the moments of confronting daunting faces,

There's also a lovely, cheesy friend,

Who loves her people and tries every bit to see their smiles,

There's also a fragile, delicate friend,

Who is uncomplicated to break,

This inner child's friends were scarred and

Broken, some to great extents and some repairable,

She walks past many versions of herself to the

End of the lane and confronts a new friend,

A friend she hasn't acquainted herself with,

Her mending friend.

She hugs her like a child seeing her mother, 

And she caresses like a mother, 

Who missed her child every ray of time,

Touching her old bouncy self one last time,

Before her mending friend starts to repair,

She unveils a secret and asks her mending friend's hand 

and all the other friends' hands, holding their hands tight, 

Fingers locked, hugs all the versions like mixing paints,

She becomes a new version of herself, and yet 

Again, a foreign self, waiting to be explored.

By Radha Konda