Crumpled paper

A crumbled piece of paper

I am, and you an ink


And we start with our journey

With the words flowing

In the dungeons, wild

In the counting miles

In the hopes of completing a sentence

The semi colon tries

But alas, of all the stereotypical issues

The dot smirks and smiles

And walks in the middle of the story

Yet to be written

Yet to be told

Yet to be heard

By the world.

You kiss me slow

As I fold myself into pieces

Every corner, you embrace

And stay protecting my crookedness,

Darling, you’re hurting, leave

Leave me, you’re settling in the crevasse

You’re bolting in

I get smudged by your love

Bit by bit, in pieces

“but our story… ”

I couldn’t complete the sentence…


A crumbled piece of paper

I was, you my ink.


By Shweta Dubey



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