I'm Not Just A Face

By Hashmat Naiyareen

In the search for a mild ocean wave

In the light of a hollow dark grave

You come looking for me

Like the world was not enough

In the cacophony of silence

You see my face

My face?

Don't trust it, for it might be a farce

Or might just be a sorrowed heart

I did not paint the shape it now holds

What you see, is not my own

My words, though, very much mine

But you don't listen, you do mind

I'm pretty, I'm beautiful, I'm a breath of fresh air

I'm a periwinkle to garnish your heir

Sudden impulse, not my thing at all

I'm a pretty face, photoshopped

You remind me of that every day

My screams leave a bruise 

I want them to. To carve a notion

In the hunted slots, I smile, my face

Beautified. 

That's all they, see. Not my strength to

Pull a dragon's tail, or

Shout from the valleys when it's about to rain

I am meant to pluck the leaves

And make tea, I am supposed to. 

My pretty face doesn’t deny me that freedom

It's a ribbon of flowers, mostly of copper

Tied around my hands to adorn my being

I'm a chirping bird caught in a cage, I smile

To adorn my pretty face. 

 


2 comments

  • “You see my face

    My face?

    Don’t trust it, for it might be a farce"

    These lines feel as if they are alive. :)

    Debolina Bal
  • “I did not paint the shape it now holds
    What you see, is not my own”
    I loved these lines!

    Manjari Gupta

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