I am that girl who dresses up in red even when her eyes are puffy from the long lost sleep,
a little eye shadow to smoke up the eyes, will definitely cover up the lines deep,
The heels kill my ankles but the pain doesn't bother anymore,
I have endured worse, this agony could not compare to the heaviness I carried within.
My folks are worried to see me happy when I need to sober down my drinks,
But hell I am celebrating my new found addiction, that would be me.
The festival is around and people are lighting up the houses, giving side looks to me,
they wonder if I would dare to be jovial and carefree as I always used to be,
I pulled up extra strings and lighted up the entire street to let them know I am still me,
I picked up the lanterns and the earthen lamps and lit up every corner including my fig tree.
Celebrating dad's birthday for the first time in his 65 years, making him feel like a child,
Seeing him smile on seeing me glowing, the only gestures he had were full of care,
he knew what I had been through and he could not ask for more than for me to be less wild,
But here I was popping up champagne and the party poppers, and the red velvet to share.
Change is good for it needs to be reflective of my insights, I need to worry less and love more,
I do care alot, as told by all the people I met in my life, but still it was never enough,
So I thought what is the point of self-introspecting to such deep instincts, what would it bore,
Let them be them and let me be me, as I was always the doting soul.
