November 12, 2015

The dazzling light of 8 AM sun,
The sound of car honks, rushing to their destination,
a group of girls trying to cross over the street,
a hasty steps to the classroom,
Stairs,
Stairs,
and a lot of stairs.

they say you are too preoccupied,
they say you are drown in your business that you forget you have to live,
they say you no longer are alive

Within every affirmation of coming to a meeting,
there is a slight discomfort for not having finished the assignment,
Within every late night outings, there is a slight guilty of not fulfilling 
the promises to parents,
within every deadlines, sleepless nights, countless reading materials,
there is a hollow,
that demands to be filled.

It starts to rob her late night thoughts
It haunts her morning routines,
It comes in every time she scrolls her smartphone,
that yes, she suffers from emptiness.

The lightning strokes,
and rain falls, slowly and then all at once,
and it stops,
and the soil permeates the afterrain smell,
a trace of raindrops in the canvas bag,
Among the people who passes,
Among the stark changes this town has experienced in the count of years,
Among the edifice of thoughts she embraces,

she concedes that she wants to feel alive,
once again,
by refraining from calculating every concequences she should bear,
by quit  considering what harm might it cause to other people,
by quit trying so hard to be professional.

she just wants to feel alive.
and be carefree.
at least for just this once.

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