Memory Box

Everything I have to say has already been said–
is that proof that all this is inside my head?
They whisper, they laugh – my time has arrived,
oh, if only they knew how much I have thrived.

Yes, I too was a child, a young protege
of the world in all its glory, brilliant and gay.
I used to count the stars before I slept every night
And in the morning, the birds, mid-flight.

Yet soon, birds and stars lost their charm
boys were discovered, we walked arm in arm.
The clouds and my heart were all on fire,
orange-red skies reflecting my inner desire.

The future was nothing but an abstract concept
we lived in the now, it was all we could accept.
We didn’t need love, passion sufficed
we flocked from man to man, an underground heist.

I ultimately found someone who spoke my language
he was moonlight and flowers and my mirror image.
His ring gleamed almost as bright as my face
on the day I wore my best dress with white lace.

But rings can break and so do hearts
by words alone, there’s no need for darts.
Cupid’s arrows sometimes miss the mark
there’s nothing we can do, but stab in the dark.

Whenever I look back at this mess of events
I have no idea what all this is supposed to represent–
I am not the same person who I was back then
I continue to evolve, time and time again.

Yet if there’s something you can take away from all this–
it’s that life is rarely going to be all roses and bliss.
But be sure to embrace it and live so much life
that by the grace of god, you’ll have to die twice.

Tejashree Murugan is a student of biotechnology and a lover of classic literature.  

Featured image credit: 愚木混株 Cdd20/Pixabay