Horror in Mom Street

Horror in Mom Street

Happens more often

Than I care or please

But the scariest bit

Is creeping lice and stationary nit

In a head full of curly hair

Making mother quake in despair

Giving in is never an option

So divide hair in equal portions

Comb and comb and comb some more

Kill them, squash them by the score

Pour the oil

Wash the hair

Repeat procedure

Poison their lair

I am not a killer

But you raised the bar

You fed on my baby’s blood

I declare war.

Burn

I built a pyre
And burnt all things you.
I promised
To keep the fires on
Till there was not a trace of you left.

I built the pyre
I forgot to jump in.

Stranger I used to know

You chose to erase your past

To forget memories

But you forgot

Those memories belonged to us as well

Because we were part of them

With one decision

You chose to give up

On 25 years’ worth of friendship

And that cut deep

Very, deep

If you had told us

Once. Just once

We would have been happy

To let go

To let you fly unfettered

Because our friendship

Was not about chains

Or boundaries

It was about silliness

About laughter and misspent youth

We would have learnt

To love a new you

But cutting us loose

From the old you

Was not just your choice to make

And that, is going to make it difficult

To trust the person you have become

The face

Itchy scratchy
Glowy golden
Mask one
Mask two
And Masks 3 and 4

Just how many faces do you wear?
And why?

One for the society
One for the virtual
One for the family
One for, well, for the self

Confused to the extent
That you don't know the real
From the acquired.

Such a sad life
Wasting precious time
Switching faces
Donning masks.