Girls And Their Floor Time Against The Whole World

I am suffering from pink deficiency

my heart is made of baby pink velvet

It Lasts Forever and Then It's Over, Anne de Marcken

Amrita Pritam

They say it's about the journey, not the destination. But have you thought about the promise of a starting point? A crossroad? The flicker of hope a choice gives you, the feeling of power surging through you veins no matter how disillusioned.

I've taken several trains in my life, never thought too much about it. But the platform? The cold bench which once seemed warm when I sat with you? Yeah, I don't think about that as much as I used to.

It's beautiful now, if you were wondering. The legs and the metallic armrests of the bench have served as an anchor for a creeping ivy to sustain itself. It could be a bougainvillea, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference. The only time I've paid attention was when I was picking one for you.

My father, when teaching me to calm my anxious mind, asked me to view myself in a black room with everything thought in my head- slowly pushing each one behind a closed door, clearing the space till it's just me. No matter how much I tried, I never got to the dark room. I was always left at the station, on our bench, with my last thought - your name.

Our fleeting forever, the starting point I'll always cherish because the journey continued despite my protests.

I am done with the day