There were 6 of us in this room, back again at the same time on the same days every week.
There’s one sitting at the end of the long room, tying her shoelaces, checking her image on the mirror right next to her.
Probably a writer, someone who wove magic through her words, torn against the societal norms and her own belief.
The other one is stretching, fit body and clothes, looks successful, beautiful smile and beautiful soul. I remember how she helped me once, all smiles and all kinds of kind.
One more is on the scale, checking her number and inches, looking dissatisfied. Oh how I want to hold her and tell her I feel the same.
Next to me, my friend is gloomily refreshing her page again to recheck her likes. Its not about the likes she says its about validation. But isn’t that one and the same thing?
I see the person sitting in front of me, head against the wall, eyes closed. Taking a breath. A break. Just like the moment between a raindrop falling from the sky and hitting the ground. The calm before the storm. The rose before the thorns.
Then there’s me, sitting quite dejectedly, realising all of these are just a part of me,
just a shell of a person of what I used to be,
silver glitter running through my veins,
Loosing some everyday.
And I’m here again today to lose some more to fit in with the ones having golden veins.