wash your ugly face.
Put on some perfume-
for God's sake, take a
effing bath today.
Your bare body deserves
soft touch of a loofah.
A shady t-shirt, a faded
jeans and a haughty look
to call yourself funky.
An overused duet to
mumble in your mouth,
A crooked smile to ooze
your rizz. Little quirkiness
should be harmless but
first-
Look deep in the mirror
to have a glimpse of
your restless soul.
Thrust your hand in your
mind, and give a shape to
that face in your head.
Then say shortest poem
is a name and write it
in the last pages like
you're Ghalib's intern-
It's time to manifest
yourself a fuck-all life.
Time to at least pretend
that you got wings and
fly close to the sun
till you lose it all-
Whatever you gained
would be bonus and
and whatever you lost
was never yours-
But Hey, you would be
a beautiful mess again,
and we could start
the grind again by
combining your hair or
by sketching someone
else's face.