One foot in,
One foot out,
Dangling both my legs,
On either side of my balcony window.
I look down to the reflection,
Of the water collected from yesterday's rain.
As I see more of myself,
I feel my leg in the air,
Having nine feet below it,
Get heavier.
Those nine feet look tempting to fall,
Those nine feet may help me,
Find my umbrella,
For the next rain.
Those nine feet may help me,
Find my safe place,
From the next argument.
On the other side,
My leg dangles down,
Where I can reach the ground,
On the tip of my toes.
Maybe the ground can help me,
By giving me a push to the other side.
Maybe the ground can help me,
By not fearing the words,
That is pushed into my head by the society.
But then again its my body,
Who balances everything,
Like a pendulum,
It's pushed to it's extremes,
But somehow stops,
In between.
My body, yet again, controlled,
By the insanities of my mind,
Installed by the faces around me,
The indecisiveness wrecking my whole being,
And in the end,
Just going with the flow of surviving.
I look down to my reflection,
Of the water collected from my tears,
I smile.
