Social Butterfly

She flits in and out With automatic ease: Skirts and crop tops, Heavy perfume in the breeze. You’ll never catch her lips Not match exactly with her nails; Her heels click along With admirers following her trail. She’s in the ‘it’ crowd Or rather – She’s ‘it’ herself. Stop and gather – Gossip, tips and …

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Holding On

It's quite funny As the seconds tick by And stretch into hours Of your perfect silence As I keep waiting For an answer That the entire world knows Shall never come. Funny how people Would rather indulge Into welcome depths of denial Shout into empty rooms And knock on doors That you will never open …

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