Ever been on the verge of crying?
Yet held back ’cause of a scrofulous friend- denial.
The thoughts that’ll be forever damned- ribald, solicitous and vile
Hard to admit – I, being a lingering curse.
Fear the modest; Escape the shy
Reciting my moral-less fable I walk past the adverse.
Oh the magic potion! The wicked witches’ alcohol
Dripping in my body drop by drop
It cuts my heart open
And burns his soul
A mystery of giving in; slowly losing control
I start to talk; Pick up till I babble
I speak my mind- the bold and all the dirty talks
I lose my innocence to him
Now unafraid of harbouring the innocent sins.
Erupting volcano- emotions just not right
I wait for no one to keep an eye
That is when I bitch ‘n’ whine ‘n’ cry
And commit every devious crime.
Yes, now a woman with every thought absurd
I catch up with his every word,
Finally a glimpse of our world’s intersection…
I wake up the next morning
Blind to his new love
Oh! The last night? It wasn’t me!
It was like giving alcohol a tongue and a pair of lips.