Cardboard Box

Even though the grey clouds

Bring out the peacock in my heart…

A long spell of rain,

Tends to wash down more than I can bear.

Just as the overly priced couture,

Tardily sitting in my closet,

Now gives me a worthless stare.

And suddenly the whole room around me turns into a cardboard box,

A dull sullenness fills every nook of it.

The ocular reality is now directed by my brain

To make sense of the repetitive strain

Of the life we live everyday

Somehow in that few seconds when I looked for you,

Restless,

in the creases of my loveless sheets,

The emotion struck eyes could see

The whole world in some tinted shades,

And now that the hands are full once more

You will be written off

in some humdrum list

of life’s chores.

One moment,

The moment that

Steals from us,

The fragrance of a new flower

And turns it notoriously mundane.

How can I avenge a murder?

A murder of my poetic vision,

veered from its eccentricity again.

Mnemonics to remember,

Or a challenge to find your gaze

That had set it free in the first place,

Is the question at stake.

Because now,

I close them,

My eyes,

I see through my lids

The cardboard box again.