The first thing you'd
Probably notice is the hair
Its curly, unruly with little shade of red
People usually comment its beautiful
When its left open, for the wind to grace
But mostly I tie it up in a bun, restricted
My hair mirroring what I'm inside
Someone so eager to escape, maybe even pretty
But so held in fear that she stays bound
Next are the well written eyes
Kohl drawn over, so dark
It hides the traces of my sleepless nights
And sometimes, catch the whispers of the lights
I fondly chase
The nosepin is silver and huge
A little hard to miss with the bright red lipstick
I know I said I stay in bounds
But I'm also loud, and not easy to miss
It's like the clothes I dress in
You see me but don't actually see me
It's a haunting game of peekaboo
At any given point my fingers
Would be home to 6 odd bright rings
Yes rings are my bling
I peep through windows
I will check under the rug
Between the pots and pans I will search
I will undress your soul to know you
Because my hands are always searching for stories
And that's why I come armed with rings
Hoping they catch the ones that slip through my fingers
Hi I'm El, nice to meet you!
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