that moment,
she stood there as if
an unseen, lonely
outsider.
she walked
across the path
in their shadows
for the nth time..
and felt angst, fear
and confusion.
it was maddening.
she hates
being unheard and
it was frustrating
for some reason.
“wouldn’t it better
for me to leave?” she uttered.
and she thought of doing so.
but was coward enough to
take a course of action.
it’s nobody’s fault, after all.
she’s been living like that.
for years.
she’s cold as ice.
a mess, hideous and scarred.
and a coward.
she’s an unexplored
book carelessly
thrown in a corner..
she could’ve been
everyone’s pick
but she’s never
lucky enough
to be chosen. to be cherished.
to be someone’s valuable treasure.
how does it feel to
be understood?
to be one’s favorite?
she let herself to
be kept unread,
but what does she gain?
it was all in vain.
scribbles 