too obsessive of my choices and affiliationsi do ask myself
where do you stand
or
if at all
i get
unsavoury remarks
from my heart
with an ever jealous obsession of its instincts
i ignore too much
so does it
may be
both of us are constrained
of reality
within and without
but why
ask my little soul
with a penchant desire
to fly past
my world of inhibitions
of buts and whys
i stare at me
without a glass
thro' your eyes
and ask again
dotted lines storms my brain
with your thoughts
at every dot
source: shipra vashisht
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