Often torn on the corners

her cover, a bit faded away

she has the smell of my rustic ink!

which bleeds emotions.. 

ushers out clouds..

flows experiences, all sweet & soar.. 

Clumsy, absurd she is

chaotic, abstract too..

Thoughts unfiltered 

Poems unedited 

Notes irrelevant 

Memories overloaded

She starts with whichever page opened 

& ends in the heart, jigsawing all the pieces broken!

Every line has a story

Every corner, a faded memory!

She is my strength, 

My chaotic wealth

In every other way

She is Me,

And I Am, what she is about to say!!

~ Sanjeevani 


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