A Kindling Soul

Under the dark, blue sky, Under the dim lit stars That twinkled away, Far away. I met you, I felt you, I found you, I knew you. I shared my soul, And the darkness of my heart. Slowly, you became the darkest part But when did that start? The dew never settled. The scars of the thorns Never left my feet. Sometimes when the wind blows, I can hear you breathe. You found me, you held me. Never knew me, did you? Left me out, in the rain, To climb down, alone. It wasn't the nicotine That I got high on, That I craved. Of which I was a slave. You, in turn, of her, her love. Still are, I can see. Only the smoke remains. And a lonesome me.

I spent the last 11 years outside of my hometown. So, the one time that I do decide to visit, Aunty Flow decides to accompany me. Well, no thank you. Oh, but I don't have a choice, do I? Over the years I have come to not loathe my periods. Well, as much as one can, anyway. But as soon as my flight landed at the airport, a reminiscent dread started creeping over my body. I started panicking. Emotions aren't my best friends during my 'time of the month'. Or anytime, really. But that's a different issue. I couldn't recall the gazillion rules that I was supposed to abide by while I was on my period in that house.  Not walk in front of the tiny temple we have at home. Not touch anything in the kitchen. And, what? With every stair I climbed, another rule would pop up in my head. Don't touch the water container. Don't touch the jars and jars of namkeen set on the table for everyone to eat whenever they please. Except a bleeding, extra-hungry me. That'...