the You's and Me's

 After months of losing myself in a swirl of materialistic needs, I woke up on a Friday. Dying not only from the inside, but from the outside too. Begging, shouting and screaming. "What wrong didI do? Have I really been that bad?" Has the smoke that I ashed near the window reached God's floor and has he smelled my sin. So has he sent disease my way way, for me to repent? I question you. That is my blunder. My bizzare and brittle belief is what scares my soul. For what will I be when I have no one left? Bellief is what holds us together, yet the guilt of not thinking of You, is only what makes me think of You. So now I don't want to question myself. For once. Please. Atleast for sometime. Might I just question, who are You? The You people fear and the You people desire. How is it that sometimes the heart breaking, cringe-wrothy and understandable songs, I relate to you. Because when I sought you. I never found you. Instead you took. You took away things I loved. So I stopped seeking. And now when I don't look at you. You give me irony. You fill my uterus with anxiety, to help me give birth to strength, I don't want to be the Mary in our story. I will not be the clueless woman, the wanderer, the seeker, the follower. I am tired. I want. I need, and I will get. My anger towards you is subjective, just as my whispers to you. But you know, your actions are even more subjective and randomized. Its beautiful. But, scary. And i dont want to be scared anymore. I dont want to cry hopelessly at nights, not knowing what i am and where i am and what i am for. All i did was once to know you. And i always thought to know to you, was to know myself. But i change. Rapider the technological advancement of this abasolutely filthy world. Where are my butterflies and birds? where are my pink skies and breezy airs? You say i must just look out of the window and i will find them. But when I look, I just see my reflection in the wind. Which turns darker with passing day, as i watch my eyes embedding into my face, my cheeks sinking into my mouth and soul not visible anymore. So who are you? 

or. Just help me know who i am? who am I? what can i be? what i was? how i am? all this to identify you. even when i lose my way and get lost in my swirl of materialistic sparlkes, i remember you. I think of you. Still. In stupendous romantic songs too. i love you. But i must love me first. 

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