She smelled her orange books

She sipped her over sweet Chai
She mingled with her bangles
And cringed at overrated cries
Drama was her thing,
Be it a lost wardrobe
Or a dead John Snow
Afterall, she managed to stop the traffic over the most trivial
And searched for love in a Noah or even a tuned piano
I know I knew that girl…

She was a purpose without a trail
Running behind seasons
Being the only unaccompanied rainbow
In that void hollow sky
Doing the regular
Dreaming the extraordinary
Almost ready,
Still not knowing whether to jump or whether to fly.
I know I knew that girl…

After the blush on, the tights
The wandering fictional tales
And the high vodka nights,
It’s possible that she’s lost;
With a hope to never be found,
So I thought I know i knew that girl…
But possibly the girl doesn’t know herself anymore!


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