And that late night, she was seated on the floor,
with senses? no more,
of a dark room, with Flicker light
and only sound of strong wind.
Her long open messy hair was flying,
the way white curtains flying, free
in an airy room of that big window,
and no escape door.
Wet cheek, a dried swollen eyes,
in her hand picking a long Pointed knife,
She was seated on the floor.
Come on,
Not a sad, just a heavy heart, and guilty eyes,
a tired and depressed her- with tears, but no
cries,
a massive mess,
emotion based,
disappointed soul,
trust me, she... - a bloody fool.
Gave a smile and started cutting herself,
from a leg,
like a vegetable into pieces,
and pieces,
to free herself,
from all anxiety and nightmares.
But the next moment smile disappeared,
and again - a fear?
she starts got embarrassed,
and restless,
waiting loose her last breath,
But every damn pieces, still breath?
Bullying her,
The sound, getting and getting louder,
like a death laughed,
stare and denied.
Suddenly she screamed and shocked,
seeing eyes, fingers and rest done - well chopped.
But no death, no peace, just a noise and each shouting piece,
She tried to make them hush, and finally been
unconscious.
Wake up you ** it's 8.
- ©Darshini Shah
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