As a kid, I don't remember labelling my victories, as I kid, I don't recall strangling the desire to eat the extra cookie or as a kid, I can seldom retrace how I looked upon my choices as a sin. As time defied my innocence, cajoling expectations to blindfold what's true, the very comfort of a parallel reality made me make the bubble my home. A little more attention, extra words of affection, echoes of appreciation and momentary pleasures without a tinge of trauma or grievance were the only expectations. Expectations of him, her, you and them wrapping my life in fairy lights. Unwilling to be a star myself, unwilling to burn my desires of luxuries that never came for free, I learnt misery likes company. And wisely, all expectations have been shadows I didn't own.
Dear expectations, I cannot blame you alone, for I paid you an ounce of my dignity to buy a penny worth of importance that cannot stand time's strain.
I outstared at the overgrown sun which was losing its wedges slowly to go under the occidental westwards & seeping through its undressed fragments inside the continental slopes of azure ocean where the mottled browny lobsters were gulping the flickering pieces of the setting sun and I, an inquirer, was enjoying some green chilli fritters with roasted yam tubers.
Some flying hornets were there, to relish but I don't want to scribble about them as one of them stung my delicate clavicle.
Again I outstared at that fragmented sun as it was looking like something I saw before the red shades were looking like my mother's vermilion and the yellows were like the petals of sunflowers and oops ! the orange tints were like the rinds of some bell peppers.
I looked at the dark welkin with my mazy eyes where the Waning Gibbous was smiling at my innocence and I was drowning inside the ocean of metaphors.
Alas ! Again I ended up with a poetry while stealing metaphors from the sunset.