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Are you okay? Yes I am.. But I wasn't , As I responded to that, Because what else to say, When you aren't, Are you feeling good? Yes I am.. When I wasn't, But how will it help, If I responded for real, Do you need water? Yes I want.. But just shut down, The surrounding chatter, With infinite laughter, I couldn't bear, The noise, Inside me growing larger, Than my voice that was, Shaking my exterior poise, My daughter, Came closer.. As she held my, trembling hand, As she whispered, Mom, it will get better.. My partner, Looked at me, And wanted me to know.. It's okay, Not to be okay, Getting drunk, And throwing up.. Is all part of growing up, Till the part, Where you start loving, Just water again.. My mom and dad, Comforted me,  That although sad as it looks, Things aren't that bad.. As explained by the books, Relationships and people, Are the ones that make you stable, While everything else, Can topple,   Well, there will be loads of trouble, But more than that t


I write about people I met..
About people whose eyes went wet.
About people who meant something.
About people who let go of everything.
I write about places I visit..
That talk to me.
That walk with me at every step.
That stalk me as I sleep..
That provoked me to find them no matter what.
I write about free spirits.
About the dancing street.
About the glaring little girl.
About the forest that fumes with fire.
About the mother who doesn’t sleep.
About the man who smokes to forget.
About morning that holds you.
About the night that folds you.


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