THINGS MY MOTHER DOESN'T KNOW

 My mother thinks 

that she knows

 everything about me,

that she knows every

single detail of 

my infamous life.

Because

afterall 

I am 

the flesh of her flesh and

the blood of her blood.

But there are

 certain pains

 the umbilical cord can't feel

some smiles

 the breast milk can't taste

and anger,  growing 

bigger than a baby bump.

My mother doesn't know

the insomniac daughter,

bleeding silently

in the middle of the night,

her pillows drenched 

over the man she loved.

My mother doesn't know

the heart that stopped 

at the very moment

her favorite books were burnt.

My mother doesn't know

the girl who called 

herself  'useless' when

she overheard her mother 

disappointed over

"only 87 percentage" .

My mother doesn't know

the desperate attempts of 

her child to kill herself

not once but thrice,

but that she was failure,

in that too..

My mother doesn't know

the dark scream her

silent daughter hides,

in the memory of her cousin's 

 hands over her breasts. 

My mother doesn't know

that the boy she hates

is still my best friend,

my instagram password and 

the meaning of my words.

 Yet 

she thinks

that am a part of her,

the one she moulded,

the one she knows and 

tucks to herself entirely.

And 

I smile,

thinking myself,

what a simple puzzle

my mind is!


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