Title-less Totem 

Updated: Jun 4, 2019

Salwar suit, dupatta on my shoulders...

Tied hair, tight emotions...

Not my symbol.

Appearance of my discipline...

The epic rule of society.

Corner of street is cancer for girls...

Palpable critics present...

I am Crossing it with reluctance.

Carrying tiny wounds...

Crowded bus...

Crushing my tolerance...

Voiceless mourning...

With broken holiness.

I tame my heart to survive...

Holding tears...

Flow behind shutting doors.

Night duty is my job...

Moon is not beautiful after ten o'clock.

Standing alone becomes...

A lower chance....

For filthy eyes.

Fence between my limits and restrictions...

Atmosphere pastes dirt on my physic...

Not on my soul.

Self-respect saves my path...

Ego invokes my anger.

I wrap my chastity in a plastic bag...

Throw away somewhere ...

To have my self and save myself.

Finest weapon of you...

You have none to push me...

If you pull... I won't fall back.

I have flesh...

Search the plastic bag...

To break me.

I am now is not I was...

Need to either...

Kill or sell my name ...

To conquer my aspiration.

I did both!!

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