Space in my soul

That space in my soul

The one that I guarded with

All the beats of my heart

How did you learn of it?

 

You, with your lopsided grin

And the scattered salt pepper

Of your grisly stubble

Burrowed your way in somehow

 

I never let my guard down

And yet, you found a way in

With your infectious laugh

And your gay, cavalier manner

 

But, it was not so always, was it?

For this space was mine alone

A part of me that I kept

Sequestered from even you

 

Oh, you were mine and I yours

But still, this space was my refuge

The sanctuary I slunk away to

The hidden reach where I coped

 

Then, how did this happen?

When were my defences down?

Or, did your love like a chisel

Chip away the walls of my fortress?

 

Did you with your innate patience

Coat those stark, bleak walls

With the paint of your love

Till there were no more walls

 

Is that what happened?

For now I have no more spaces

So, tell me my love

How did you manage that?

 

By Sonal Singh

Image credit – Joel Overbeck via unsplash.com

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About Sonal Singh

An author, storyteller, and full-time observer of life’s glorious absurdities. I write humour-laced stories where chaos wears fluffy fur, emotions arrive uninvited, and middle-class Indian households become ecosystems of drama, love, and unsolicited advice. Armed with sarcasm, caffeine, and alarming emotional attachment to stray creatures, I believe compassion is less of a virtue and more of a lifestyle disorder. One that I embrace. When I’m not writing, I’m usually busy running a full-time HR consultancy business, rescuing animals, or trying to maintain dignity while being emotionally manipulated by my pets. Through my literary work, I try to blend humour with heart, celebrating the messy coexistence of humans and non-humans in modern urban India.

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