Indigo

I don't know if I could admire the burnt blue hands for the skill they have acquired
or if I could turn away seeing the cruelty of the art.

Beauty indeed, skill indeed but we never saw the pain behind did we?
 
"As she goes her way
that one
in the indigo saree
wringing it,
wringing it free
of the last drops
of pond-water,
she wrings out
my life-breath
too."

Nothingness

and for that little time, all i need is an escape even if it is an abyss.
To run and hide or sit and stare.

I'm nobody! Who are you? - Emily Dickinson

"I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

I wish I could say that it is indeed dreary
I wish I could say I have no intent to become a somebody
but how so very scared I am, of being a nobody!

If I were a nobody, no I wouldn't tell.
Not to the banishing crowd, not to the admiring bog.
Not to you. Not to me.