Megha's World

I’m picking scabs
little-little tiny pieces
stuck here and there
slipped and
stuck between the cracks
trying hard to get to them
using my bony fingers, knuckles and
what not,
to scrape and brush
and cleanse
my soul,
of all the debris
you have left inside
those little fragments
shards piercing my
heart and
small freckles
imbued forever,
not coming out easily
from your soul’s
sojourn into mine.
Photo by William Recinos on Unsplash

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10 thoughts on “Sojourn

  1. Hi, Megha. Thanks for sharing such a skilfully penned poem filled with such sublime imagery. From the very first words ‘I’m picking scabs pieces, leftovers,’ – one is drawn into the narrative and held captive. Stunning. Have a wonderful day. Goff

    Liked by 1 person

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