Author’s note

  According to me, poetry is a connection between my inner self and the outer world. Every one of my poems has a story of its own, but not a story of me.

     I began writing poems at the age of twelve, but I never even dreamt of them being published, so I’d like to thank everyone who has been a part of this book. I hope you enjoy it!

-Aadithi

 

 

Prologue

      This book contains thrity  poems of the most varied and random selection of topics. They may seem sad but are definitely a joy to read.

      Most of the time, happiness and sorrow go hand in hand with sorrow empowering the happiness, and this book is no exception…

 

 

 

 

Scars

The scars you see,

The ones you mocked,

The ones you humored,

The ones you never took seriously,

They have seen the real me.

The real me, that crumbles.

The me, that’s been through pain,

Pain that shatters you,

Shatters you like glass,

Glass that cannot be mended.

This hand has experienced the touch

That no girl wants voluntarily,

The touch that terrorizes you

And yet, you mocked them.

You humored them.

You never took them seriously.

 

 

Drifting

The leaves crumble beneath                   

The wind freezes my open chest

Metal leaves scars on my leg

Nails dig into my neck

Teeth bite into my cheek

Roughness pulling at my hair

My insides profusely bleed

And yet, I smile

Tears dampen my face because of pain

And yet, I smile

Thinking about the spring flowers

How they were planted

How they bloomed

How they smiled

A small girl ran among them

Making the petals dance as they fly free

Creating an aromatic surrounding

And suddenly, snapping back to reality

A content smile splitting my face

And soon, I feel nothing.