The Much-Feared Demise Of My Verses
written by: Avantika Singhal
Neither the fear of the unknown is scary,
nor is the horror movie watched at 2:00 AM.
It’s the meandering turn your mind takes
when it’s pensive. It’s the risk of losing all the
poetry you engraved onto tiny shards of your
translucent memory that could float away like
logs in a wrathful lake. It’s the unpredictable
quality of whether you will be able to write
meaningful anecdotes in time.
Really, the fear is so overpowering that your
mind stops curving and pauses at the
pointed edge of a cliff overlooking a swiveling,
black hole. What will you do? Will you arise from
this suffocating mess? Maybe, if you keep
contemplating and staring into the abyss, the
poetry will slip through like water from a tap
into a welcoming glass. You will feel the words
claiming the appendages of your skinny fingers
for a tiny second and in the next moment, your
feelings will have infiltrated your mind.
Quickly. Sneakily. Smoothly.
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