By Ramsha Rizvi
When I read other people’s words
I feel hot and cold at once.
It is the feeling of your feelings
handed to you on a plate,
but your eyes are closed and the person who cooked the dish
doesn’t even know you.
It is having chills and blushing
and wanting to beg for more
but you’re always too shy to speak up so
the only way to go is to write some
of your own.
When I read other people’s words
I want to remember them.
The way I grasp to them, like the puffs of droplets
from a crashing wave on the sea,
they stick to my cheeks and slip through my fingers
and I lick my lips just to taste them
one more time.
There are so many wonderful words out there,
so many ways of love and loss
that I couldn’t possibly compare with these wondrous things
I read. I couldn’t possibly beat what I’ve read.
I can only try and improve upon what I’ve written,
myself,
one chill at a time, one dish,
one droplet, one sea:
one word.
Ramsha Rizvi, a girl in her 20’s, just taking a leap of faith and putting her work out in the open. Her writing is the only source of her finding her identity in this world.
Instagram Handle – @the_girl_with_the_blue_room