Fit in

We tend to give away layers of skin,

one after another 

to squeeze a little more 

to fit in that space.

That space which

is made of people’s

judgment and thoughts,

thoughts that are louder

than mine.

The space upon which

is a carpet of expectations,

spread by my loved ones.

That carpet also shrinks

as I grow.

It narrows down to a limit

that I can no longer

stand on my tiny toe.

That is when I give up.

When I give up,

all that is left around

are shreds of my dreams

frail skeleton of my wishes,

and dust of my crushed,

dried up hope.

I see and realise that

I could have stitched

my own carpet with

layers of my shredded dreams,

with threads of self-love, 

and could have 

erected my walls of hope,

tucked together with

strings of self-care,

but i surrendered 

and that was my biggest mistake.

I was engrossed in slicing,

Slicing up my hopes and wishes,

In shredding them to bits and pieces.

That I forgot,

I was slicing my limbs away,

And how could have I fetched my dreams,

With my amputed will power!