//Lost

I am tired of losing people, I say.
Yet I lose myself everyday, among the crowd, in the lonely streets, in a fair, or in a corner of my bedroom.
To be found. To be seeked. To be chased. They way I do.
Am tired of losing people, I say.
Yet I lose myself everyday, in every person I come across. A bit or a whole. A saint or a whore. Among the cries of a hungry child. Or among the smiles of a new mom.
To be searched. To be screeched. To be reached. The way I do.
I am tired of losing people, I say.
I lie.
I am tired of losing myself in them.
I am used to it.
I'll fade.

- Barkha