Aps- The Muddled Utopian

There she was sitting on a rock still, But her mind was rolling in circles like a twig caught up in a tornado… With so many questions to ask, She was quiet because she was overwhelmed… Deep down in the crevices of her core, something was hurting, And that something was hurting real bad… But she knows words won’t do justice to her spirits, And fights will only scratch the wounds further deep, For the souls responsible either are unaware or they don’t care… So there she was sitting on a rock still, For she knows she has the powers to selfheal… For the time had taught her many lessons and one was to be her own soothsayer, And how to have perfect conversations with herself. Only she knew the exact words her heart wanted to hear, Only she could soothe her pain, Because she had tried other ways but those just aggravated the aching. So there she was sitting on a rock still…

When she ran they chased her, When she fell they held her, When she dreamed they showered sparkle, When she laughed, they echoed her laughter, And when she cried, they held her tears... They were her mates, whom she spoke as the sand slipped in the hourglass, And they answered to her questions without words... When they got entangled in her hair they became her hairband, And when they got stuck between her fingers, they became a ring of promise... They pricked sometimes while she walked on tough roads to ensure that she still feels, She was a wildflower and wildflowers she loved, They reminded her of her soul, wild and free... Wildflowers and She, She and Wildflowers were like the two halves of the pea in the peapod of the world... Wildflowers and she...

She loved open books, because she was one. She spoke like the letters of that novel, which created a picture that felt like mine. She looked like a picture of that color book which had all the shades of emotions. She never loved endings, so she always wrote new beginnings She knew time is not hers, so she lived every moment whatever she got.. Her eyes searched people who loved open books and were ready to share.. Closed books scared her as they had given her scars, they were the reasons of her nightmares and they took away seasons of stars. But she had learned her ways, books helped. She now choose the books to read, write and share. The chapters that can be book marked and the chapters that can be skipped... The chapters that can be closed to heart and the chapters that had to be torn apart... The Chapters that meant adventure and the ones that meant just time-pass. She is a happy reader now and a selective too...

I see her shivering in the empty corner, Is it the cold or lack of warmth in her I wonder !! People said she always walks with droopy shoulders, her spine is curved may be.. or may be she is carrying a bag of broken dreams I wonder !! She has lost her memory, society calls her mad.. I wonder, what if she doesn't have anything worth remembering !! She lacks maturity, behaves like a kid who never grew up "THEY SAY", I wonder, what if she doesn't know how to fake it !! Neighbors say she once used to rattle like a chatterbox, now not a word she utters, she is depressed they say.. I wonder, what if she doesn't find them worth taking to anymore !! They say her eyes are all dried, she never cries, I wonder, what if she doesn't have anything worth crying for !! Tears have value only if there is someone to wipe them, else they are just water droplets rolling from eyes.. Hugs are only worth the love someone has for you, Words only hold value of t...