The lonely bulb grows in the dark,

I let it remain as the only source of light

despite having nine light lamps in my house.

Atleast the mystifying chills of the dark doesn't highlight my marks,

nor does it tease me on my weight.

Sometimes I wonder, if I accompany the darkness for all its false accusations

because sometimes

inanimate emotions in this universe describe me better than what my fragile heart expresses.