You spend your life trying to adjust,
trying to mold yourself into and against
but one day you realize that
you’re horribly limited
and you’ve ran out of people
to mold yourself into
and you’re lost.
You run your fingers across the seams
of the old kameez you had
and find the stitches coming apart.
You try to remember the colour
it was when you newly bought
years ago, but it’s all bleached
and you can’t remember.