Stories
Snap out of one.
And submerge into another.
One has my voice.
The other my eyes.
Stories, both
One verbose
The other black and white.
I pull me out of incessant rambling
So I can chase words around pages
Full of characters, woven to entertain
As they live their journeys through my eyes
One syllable at a time
I make my way through the wars and losses, heartbreak and joys
Murder, deceit and lies
That fill these pages.
Only to recognise, stories are everywhere, within and outside
Stop now, don't you see?
There's no running
From that which makes up
The very fibre of our being.
© Sneha Singh 2015
