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Pankhuri Swarnim



Pankhuri Swarnim


The Gold That Got Old

The Gold That Got Old

2 mins 7.1K 2 mins 7.1K

Do you ever just miss everything old?

Like everything that was musty before and not anymore.

That precious kappa kappa cup that you bought when you were in sixth grade and now don't put your lips to;

Because you replaced it with a fancy all-black china.

That sepia blanket your mother sewed for you, numbering all the places you holidayed at;

Now you are too smug under your mushy silk one to weave the yarn of memories lying around somewhere in an old trunk.

Those old chandeliers that helped you swing through the dark night are now flames, wavering;

Because you are blooming and blaming your floral scented candles, they wax and wane just the same.

The old lover who left you because of you; somewhere down that dusty road, it’s all written in soot,

Now you are too gay with this new boy to uncover secrets, building castle in the glistening sand under the blazing sun.

Path of careless freedom, Maze of roaring banter that you don't get lost in, anymore;

You are too preoccupied, creating dividing and divided lanes for your life.

The first favorite book you stacked at the top of your shelf because you loved it too much to let it go;

But then you let it sink deep beneath because you switched genres and it's just not the same anymore.

The fields of love, laughter and life, all smoked up like hay gone haywire;

You spiral out of control every now and then because you love the urbane so much more than the countryside.

The school that schooled you to become all that you are today, the forgotten by lanes,

The erased footprints, the smudged smiles on its walls;

You keep going back for more, unmoved, deeply touched, there's nothing you can do.

The little girl you were, making castles in the air, and sand dunes by the shores, monkeying about on your father's laps;

You have grown up so much, a little woman, you turned your blank spaces into shank cases, your father continually asks, "Will there be space?"

The spoilt sister you were, who crammed her mouth with candies and popsicles because your bother pampered you so;

You forgot what it was like to be owned by blood, failing to get, flailing to give;

You saw your moon yet counted the stars.

The people you lost, the ones you unfriended, the ones you unloved, the ones that left and never came back;

Because you had everywhere to be but nowhere to go.

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