Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra
Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra

From Your Friend - The Pillow

From Your Friend - The Pillow

2 mins 13.8K 2 mins 13.8K

I remember her wet hair leaving little drops on me,

Like rain drops, twice every week,

I remember her tears wetting me,

Some other night, she would wipe her mascara on me and not in the bathroom,

Some other night she would bury her face in me & cry,

I would listen to her each complaint, her shame for her flaws, her sorrows,

Listening like a silent spectator,

All those nights are stitched in me,


Maybe if I had torn up those stitches on my mouth,

Maybe if I had only told her,

How beautiful she looked carelessly dozing off while reading those heavy brick-like 'novels',

How beautiful she looked binge watching series, laughing along with it,

How beautiful she looked singing off-tune,

How beautiful she looked giggling at that meme on her newsfeed,

How beautiful she looked with her wide-eyes, hands moving along with her words like she was 'performing' her talk,

How beautiful she looked in the dark night, asleep, mumbling words to which I was the only listener,

How beautiful she looked just laying down on me,

How beautiful she looked struggling to plug her charger in the nearby plug,

How beautiful she looked when she threw the paper ball in the basket, and screamed 'Kobe’,

How beautiful she looked while reading the poem, grinning at the end, taking a deep breath, a sigh, & hugging that book, instead of me.


She was supposed to know this,

So why didn’t any of you tell her any of it?

I know you tried, without meaning it,

Her mess wasn't a gush of wind,

Did you not see her flickering?

Her wings fluttering, finding it hard to fly?

Why was sitting on the branch, trying to heal wasn’t an option?

Why you flicked her feathers away?

I wish mine could replace them.

She was weak,

Doesn't mean she didn't deserve to live,

She just needed more will, more breaths to take in deep, more steps, for she moved like a baby,

But now she won't move,

Her dead head laying on me,

No more wide-eyes, no smile.


But don't close her eyes,

She needs to see the stones​ & the lumps,

She needs to see the sky not the darkness you threw her in,

She needs to be missed like she belonged,

And I'll miss her,

I'll stitch your names inside me, like I stitched her in me.


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