The same petite frame,

That lost look in those eyes.

Crashed life on the rocks of disappointments,

Eyeballs floating in a sea of lost hopes.

Lips trembling to tell me her story,

The story of her leap of faith.

The disappointment of not finding that grip yet again,

The same story of listless life and rudderless state.

The sense of loss, that desperation to cling,

Onto the first available support, be it a teddy or a song.

With the hope that this grip,

will be her last and erase the memories of the past.

My eyes had seen the drama earlier,

Which life had played with me before.

Someone before you had wanted me to believe it to be love,

Later I realised it was a dance of hormones and dope.

*

Jay Jagdev | June 19^th, 2024