Who Am I? Bloom and Thorns

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Artwork by Bobbie Russon

Who am I? 
Am I a party lover or a philosopher?
A painter one day, a writer on others.
Am I a reader or a stalker? 
A dancer in the club, a performer of the day. 
Should I confine myself to boxes? 
let my wings spread and soar high? 

Am I the worker in that building or the contractor? 
A slave or the boss of this world? 
Am I the obedient child or the worst nightmare of my parents? 
Am I the rainbow in others’ lives or a shade of gray? 
Should I bear this diversity within me and
feel overwhelmed when I can’t be any of these? 

Am I a morning angel or a night owl? 
Am I a loner or a traveler in this world? 
After countless permutations and combinations,
I ask you, my friend, 
who am I to you, 
and which version of me do you hold in your heart?

Bloom and Thorns

In innocence, we met, confusion in our eyes,
A day so unforgettable, beneath the desert skies.
You were my blooming plant, in this barren place,
But no branches, no roots, no shelter to embrace.

I saw you as my hope, a ray of warmth so bright, 
Seeking love and comfort, drawn to your light. 
Yet all I found was emptiness, a void within,
A shallowness that left my heart in chagrin.

I tried to be your savior, to water and protect, 
To make you bloom again, with love and respect. 
But foolish I, forgot this desert’s decree, 
That two similar souls can never coexist free.

You pushed me far away, for my own sake, 
To shield me from the pain that we’d both partake.
I left with guilt, unable to save you then,
Only to watch you bloom, shining bright again.

But as I looked closer, a painful truth I’d see, 
You weren’t a flower, but a cactus, wild and free.
In that desert of desire, we couldn’t both survive,
For our dreams to intertwine, and our hopes to revive.

You wanted to be my branches, I your gentle rain,
But fate played its hand, and we endured the pain. 
So, let us part in this arid land, without disdain, 
With memories of what might have been, but in vain.

In innocence, we met, and in innocence, we part, 
Two souls forever connected, though worlds apart. 
I’ll cherish the moments, the laughter, and the tears,
As we walk separate paths, with cherished yesteryears.


Akankasha Choudhary

Akankasha is a free-spirited wanderer, with one foot in Gujju land and a heart rooted in different parts of the country. She can often be spotted grooving with earphones on, humming melodies while engaging in profound discussions about life’s mysteries and philosophies. Her love for reading and writing extends to short inhale poetry. However, when not immersed in verses, she embarks on explorations of places and people, collecting experiences beyond her wildest dreams. With an affinity for random conversations, Akankasha also cherishes moments of silence, believing that her very existence makes her a true blahcksheep.


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