BLISTERS

You brought the love you have,

You brought the love you have.

Circling in the market, Mary picked the bottom of her skirt, only noticed the blisters on her feet, red, pulpy little spots, but she can't stop, because she is on a mission today. The mission is to buy some love for herself. Since she was 3, she saw everyone getting their pieces of it and always wanted to have her own bite, but the plate was always empty,

with a scramble of bread and cream left on it. She checked the shelf, in the kitchen cupboards, under the big lids, only to find it nowhere.

It's been 7 years since she is trying to find out her part of it. One day, while coming from music classes, she met Little Jack the drunk. The drunk was again drunk like any other day. She said hi and asked about the love.

"Maybe the market,"

he replied.

That day Mary went out in her white gown to find her love. She had 13 pennies in her savings, but she was sure she wouldn't use it, because love is free, as the drunk told her.

She believed him; he was a nice guy.

Standing in the market after 2 rounds, she asked each vendor for the love, but none was selling it. Tired, she sat down in her pretty gown, the new white gown, the gown for the new occasion, on the ground.

Pretty little girl,

found on the lane,

wearing virginity, she couldn't speak.

Looking at the hollow jar, she only said —

"Love, love,

guess who fooled me.

I want to go to my mama, but 

"she was cruel to me."

The dirty little white dress

talked something in noble tongue.

Everybody stooped down,

only to find out all of them grew up in the same junk.

Handed to the nuns,

she walked with the blistered feet.

Everybody asked her address,

but she only repeated,

"Mama was cruel to me."

Every night she dreamt of empty cupboards,

forgetting the address, cause

"Mama was cruel to her."

Weeks of screaming

suddenly made the night wild.

She slept like a sloth,

no dreams of past life.

Pretty little girl

who was found on the lane

turned 30 today,

sitting still in the silence,

no happiness or pain.

13 pennis still in the jar, 

Wai

ting for the love,

Even if it costed 13 for an hour.

- anshika