A scoop of sunshine in my bottle cap.

I do things that I don't like,

to get things that I love.

If you know what I mean.

Like Washing clothes 

and letting them dry in the sun,

So I can look and smell sweet.

Like a plump strawberry.

I don't want to be anything less than a strawberry.

I don't wanna be a bone. (Sorry)

Otherwise I am a sandworm.

Somehow the sand gets attracted to my

Light blue baggy jeans in the mid July heat.

I noticed her always hanging her clothes artistically.

Color coding the clips with her clothes,

A white underwear paired with a beige clip

Black tank top with white and golden ones

Arranged in a pretty fashion

A fashionista she is.

They are pinned slanted identically 

to the clothes line.

We're getting closer to finding an end

(To this crap that I'm writing)

It won't be the same feeling 

In the climax,

If the note is good, 

u feel bad cus it lost it's novelty 

If it's BS, 

u r happy that 

now u can go back to scrolling.

Like the banana peel that is rotting 

with my brains in my anaesthetic bed,

"Nee lam oru ponna?"

Literally that guy asked me this.

Because I didn't carry a blanket 

To save myself from the chill

Of the midnight train journey to Kerala.

But I swear I'd rather freeze than be organised.