I hope the next time you look at your scars, you see flowers growing out of them-like grass birthing from between the cracks of two bricks on the ground.
I hope the sun falls on your Bare soul and it doesn't feel like it's burning.
I hope your eyes find dawn, even in dense darkness.
I hope the next time you feel the compulsion to write, your words flow freely, like ghee on your rice, that reminds you of home.
I hope, words become your home.
I hope, your words scream louder than the echoes that supress you.
I hope you find yourself amidst peace.
The next time you feel deprived of anything, I hope you find it between the gaps of misfortune.
I hope, all your unfulfilled desires, disguise themselves as metaphors, I hope they turn into poetry.
©sakshi1099
S