Sanctuary For My Mind

They all look the same; herding us all in
All the same size
All the same colour
covered with tiles like a chess set boxed together;
but, even in this human hive
I have a place I go to
a place that is mine
where I can peacefully watch the changing colours
of the never ending sky.
And it isn’t mine because of the whitewashed walls
as bare as the next one is
or the lonely painted white doors,
It is mine because of the faded blue curtains
that I hid behind when I was five
and the perfume and hairbrushes
and books that help me survive
stacked on a broken shelf, along with papers and cheap pens
and cotton sheets and blankets and useless documents,
and notebooks which are portals to my volatile mind
and the window that shows off the ever changing sky.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. vishalbheeroo
    Mar 13, 2013 @ 18:52:04

    Beautiful post Deeksha. You are such a spirited soul and I love the poem:)


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