Dusk to Dawn, if you must write

I sit for hours 

infront of my window,

to look for myself -

the parts of me

long lost and wasted.

I open my journals,

the old ones.

In hope of meeting-

my true self.

I see a life lived,

and wasted.

I choose not to think

I choose not to speak

I choose not to live

but I finally decide-

to confront.

At the dawn,

I see the sky-

clear and calm,

much like my mind.

Asmita

January'2026