She Is Me!

She is a girl,
with hundreds of dreams
that refuse to stand in a queue.
They scatter like windblown pages,
never overlapping,
never asking for permission to exist.

She doesn’t want a spotlight,
or a well-crafted plan.

She wants freedom,
the kind no one scripts for her.

Not the 9-to-5 freedom,
but the Tuesday-afternoon-in-silence kind.

She craves peace,
that doesn’t come in podcasts or paid retreats
but the one that hums quietly
from open windows and rustling leaves.

She wants a home,
that doesn’t echo with shoulds
just warmth, soft lights,
and corners she can cry in
without being questioned.

She wants flowers,
that no one asks for,
the ones that bloom in shadows,
the ones that won’t make it to Instagram
or overpriced bouquets.

She dreams of a winter,
not crowded with coats and airports,
just snowy silence, a bowl of hot Maggi,
and socks that don’t match.
A palette of colours,
a canvas that listens,
a camera to capture
not influencers
but the ugliest emotions,
awkward silences,
old dust-covered buildings
that hold stories no one wrote.
But these days,
independence comes with loneliness.
And even though she walks tall,

She aches quietly,
for a family a complete one.
Not just blood and duty,
but a circle of arms to
cry into,
laugh with,
hug on bad days
without having to explain.
And someday,

She wants to be a scriber,
not a content creator.
But a quiet soul
who strings words like spells,
who binds her readers
without screaming for their attention.
She doesn’t want fame.

She wants to be felt,
In the pause after a line.
In the sigh after a sentence.
And maybe, just maybe
that’s enough.
For the girls who left nothing halfway,
and still feel incomplete sometimes.
This one's for you.