By Ananya Kumari
Dear future me,
ten years from now,
how's life?
Isn't it even prettier,
than the stories we read all night?
Little one,
it's been a decade, life's fine,
if only fine meant I am half-dead inside.
Yeah, life's even prettier than the fables,
if only…the p stood for
painful, perfidious and prejudiced!
Dear future me,
the friends I play with, are we still together?
playing house, making tea for each other!
Little one,
The bond you rave about was an illusion of youth,
To make merry all are there, to lend a shoulder none.
Let aside playing houses like good old times,
everyone is just too tied up in building one.
Dear future me,
does darkness still make you afraid?
Or...or those monsters under the bed?
Little one,
No, I no longer fear the darkness,
for it consoles me every night.
But I still am afraid of the monsters,
the ones lurking in bright.
Dear future me,
Are you finally the princess of the town?
Dancing in a royal ball, in the royal gown.
Little one,
No, I didn’t get to be the princess I dreamt of,
but I sure am the antagonist of my own story.
clouding my mind, my senses now dull,
the monster inside me, my head,
letting me get the best of my insecurities.
Dear future me,
ten years from now,
do we still look the same?
With curls and chocolaty eyes,
Face dusted with freckles and a toothy smile!
Little one,
It has been a decade,
not sure if we look identical.
For those luscious curls hide twisted hideous secrets,
The pair of eyes have long lost their radiance.
Each little freckle adding on to my self-doubt,
That toothy smile, a mere cover up for loneliness.