I weave stories burried underneath my skin,
I exist somewhere between fact and fiction.
The day goes by giving me pale memories.
The sun settles on my broken window sills yet again
Asking me what it takes to dream?
I disappear into paperbacks, ah! that musty smell
Voices, I hear voices battle in my head
One voice leads to other and there is no turning back,
And yet I stand at the fringes, that's where I have always belonged.
I paint my world in colours, all bright and bold.
But I know how dull colours can be!
I have seen them, been through them,
But, I know what it takes to dream.
What it takes to love yourself with no conditions attached.
What it takes to fly and get hurt and fly again,
What it takes to sing songs without worrying of getting judged,
What it takes to be me, what it takes to be not anyone else,
And that is why I have built my world in between fact and fiction.
For each penny worth pain, there is a dollar to repay,
For each broken promise, there is trust to reward
For each moment spent, there is a memory to keep,
For being alive, for being free for each story in frame
I want to be me and wear my skin,
And say, " There I am look, you see me".
"Read between the lines", I heard our professor say. We were in midst of a Victorian text. I looked at her point blank. She had spoken about something which I had no clue about. "Ma'am, would you please elaborate? ", I tried framing this sentence in my mind but my introverted self overpowered my inquisitive soul like everytime. I hopelessly waited for an explanation. Ma'am started explaining about how beyond the surface meaning of any written text, there lay a wide plethora of meaning which wasn't explicitly stated. She talked about finding a void between the written words and our imagination, that void which shapes our interpretation. That explanation opened doors to my perception of reading a text. It wasn't that I had never considered about the possibilities of meanings that lay coated in words until then, but, what perhaps I lacked was to look for that void where I questioned the layers of meaning, where I put myself in those layers of wo...
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