My dear life
I am done
I am done waiting for love
I am done hiding behind the mask
of a reckless nonchalant woman
available for hunters to make a pass
and I’m tired of being hunted down
like a sheer piece of meat
whose blood has flown
into mouths of hunters
shrinking it each time into
even more pallid a mass.
My dear life
I am done
I am done taking blames
I am done accepting without refutal
the hints of insinuations of infidelity
and the skewed reality
you slyly keep planting in my jarred head
while the fact remains
that my quest was, has been
for love you always deprived me of,
I slipped seeing the slightest signs of broken
hearts never realizing the broken ones
had already exhausted their reserves
and you ruthlessly labeled every slip of mine
as a conscious dive into a sea of lust.
Pardon me, my dear life
I am done
I am done begging pardons
I am done seeking forgiveness and shedding
tears of penance for sins I committed
in the hope for love while you kept mocking me
for no fault of mine and kept setting me up
on a loop of unrequited love.
My dear life
I am done
I am done holding hands with hope
I am done holding on to the adjunct of hope
that blinds me and dumbs me down,
every time pulling me even deeper into an abyss
it says is meant for the loveless dames.
But let me tell you my dear life
I am done
I am done sinking in the abyss
of an endless search for love
and now I am raising myself,
bit by bit, day by day,
to witness the ever-blue sky
of self-love.
Yes my dear life
Self love.
Author: Megha
Email: [email protected]
Author Bio: I am a girl next door who loves to express herself through the written word. Whenever she’s staring at the empty walls, words start urging her to be let out of the cages of her mind to the blank pages.
Link to social media: Instagram @megha786rana
