I often felt abandoned even if I wasn’t really left. I was hurt again and again. I expressed to them and felt it was not received appropriately. I felt vulnerable because every time a piece of my soul was left inadequately or entirely unattended. So I registered my dissent by anguish, separation and denial. I assumed that I cared not. I confined myself or in a better way to put, restricted others from a view through my windows. Sometimes I build such walls that I forgave them and also forgot them. Presence and absence of others were belittled.


Things on my desk

Were struggling

For an appearance

That at least for once

They would be revisited

And warmed

By a gentle touch.

In fear of being missed

By a hand, they would

Slip over each other

And even sometimes

Spill the colors and inks

In angered expression.

This crave for attention

Made me rearrange

My thoughts and desk

So, I picked

To abandon people

Even before

I could be abandoned by them.


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