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Writer's pictureShradha Bhatia

And then there's me

There’s a part of me,

So bright, raised right.


Waits and creates miracles,

Feels sublime. Approved, you know?


And there there’s me.


There’s someone wondering what,

Patient and pretentious.


Loving,

and so not contentious.


And then there’s me.


Sometimes it’s people,

Sometimes ideas, sometimes law,


Sometimes the bare minimum is a disturbance

A beautifully framed flaw (?)


And then there’s me.


Sometimes the argument is unnecessary,

And space, so important.


We change, we don’t know but we do change.

We fit in and think nobody will know.


And then there’s me.


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