I was that weird child
who used to be afraid of an orange bird so much
that people thought, I was suffering from some
medical condition.
That orange bird used to sit on my shoulder
with its long and sharp beak
so close to my ear..
it's voice
like needles boring holes in my arteries
making me whine and cry.
****
That bird was a pain for me
so was I for the neighbours
But, I wasn't the goof
children couldn't lie
*****
I grew up
I grew up crying through nights
wrapping cotton sheets around my ears
running inside
when there were any aeroplanes in the sky
because I was sure
aeroplanes are nothing but cousins of that orange fellow
*****
One day, when I grabbed a knife from kitchen
And decided to end it
Mirror pointed toward my shoulder
on which it was sitting on..
Unnecessary part of me.
I remember the time, when I stopped crying
instead, I started to bang doors
and swear a lot
because that's what big children do..
That emergency appointment
Doctor asked me what my headache was about.
Why I was so depressed.
I lied.
I lied because then he would have filed
a reference to mental health.
*****
I was afraid of being called a confirmed lunatic.
*****
Day by day, I grew bigger
and it kept on shrinking
until I noticed, it was seeping into my skin
Traces of it, making
my own blood, strange.
an immortal orange hell.
**********
I am still that weird person
with an orange bird on my shoulder
seeping into my skin
But now I am an adult also,
I couldn't cry, whine and bang doors
or swear of course
instead,
I swallow. I swallow..
Points: 399
Reviews: 6
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