There is no War for me to Win as my Battle is Within ...

In the matter of Curves ... (Reflections over my body)

Paul Gauguin Painting (La vie ET la mort) 

After the daily morning shower I look at the mirror. I wash away vapor with my bare hands. I pluck my thick eyebrows. I sneeze; I gargle and glide my finger tips over my neck. I push them back at the corner of my eyes and I slightly stretch outward the flesh. Do I look like Japanese now? I just want to make those fine lines disappear and I promise I won’t complain. I snatch my messy head and I find 3 white hairs. Grrrrrrrrrrr, no not now. I slap my cheeks to wake up; I smile and say “I love myself as I am”. 

In front of the closet, I stand while water drops off my body. My skin spread soap aroma in the room that makes me blush. I stare at all those displayed unworn dresses and unfitting skirts and I think how they never give me consolation when I need them the most. On my left, I look to another bigger mirror. I consult my naked figure. I breathe in my round tummy. I touch my flappy sides and rub my cellulite. My curves do not intimidate me. I am sort of pear sculpture like the 18^th century nude paintings. I wrap myself in the towel like a spring flower. I go drop my mass weight over the floor. The carpet scratches against my feet and send ticklish waves that reaches my ears. I look opposite to the window and understand the fact that I am not timeless, am prone to wrinkles. My hair would turn grey, my teeth might fall and my sight would fade. I draw a smile coz I know I would still love myself by then... 

iPain

its been a year of pain

its been a year of a struggling "self"

my foot hurt, my ankle hurt, my bone hurt, my heart hurt and my brain hurt

my mind hurt and being in love hurt

its not dramatic, its simply painful

sadness take over and make room for more pain

i am growing with a smile of pain, with a laugh of pain and aching feelings

i adapt, i adapt till its impossible for extra adaptation 

i surprise myself and adapt further

my knees hurt, my hands hurt, my arms hurt

i accept reality, i accept reality till reality itself dissolve

i sink in grandiose ideas till they fold, till they becomes flame, till they burn me

i vanish and disappear in fantasies of my own creation

i wake up and my eyes hurt, my ears hurt, my lashes hurt

i eat whenever am in pain and more pain follow

i lost the right sentences and only the word 'pain' remain