By Madhurima Nair
The stem is always compliant
it holds up the flower,
showered not with water, but with compliments
the stem supports it but never gets supported
the stem is always the cheerleader,
but when the lights are killed,
is there anyone to cheer the stem?
**
The second I falter,
the minute I drop my façade
and droop,
the world sharpens their pitchforks,
ready to slit my throat
I lash out,
launching thorns
from my unseen arsenal.
but they press on, relentless,
tearing through my defences
I fall,
vulnerable and weak,
exposed and bleak
all because I didn’t stand up for the flower
absorbing every beam I once called my own.
By Madhurima Nair
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