Holding onto the scoop,
as the melting ice cream lands on shirt,

Breaking hard,
as the wheels breach the hesitation of steering,

Sitting through a bad movie,
as the paid ticket looses a penny with each passing minute,

Burning fingers,
as toast loses brown but doesn’t leave the pan,

Waiting is just skipping the chaos,
as hesitation tries to cut peace from  anxiety….


Am going down,
no.. am not falling,
no.. am not drowning,
just thinking,
bit after bit,
just sinking,
in my seat.

So much so that,
lips have reached to the bottom of scar,
after drying up by licking it so much.

So much so that,
ears have reached to the bottom of throat,
to listen to the bottled up words.

So much so that,
mind has reached to the bottom of heart,
after being raged by it pounding so fast.

It ain’t a suicide of will,
a tired soul trying to justify body’s heartbeats