Betty Or Veronica

I used to think I had it all figured out—sweet, bold, or somewhere in between. But life’s struggles have a way of shifting that. How do you hold onto yourself after losing pieces along the way?

I thought I am a Betty, sweet as can be,
But sometimes I’m a Veronica, wild and free.
Even if I’m chatty, I won’t hide my claws,
I’ll be a little catty, breaking all your laws.

I can dance on tables, sing all night,
Or curl in a cradle, tucked in tight.
That’s how I felt, oh, that’s how I felt—
Once so bold, now the cards have been dealt.

All my hope turned to despair,
What’s the point to share or care?
When the youth of my life should’ve been bright,
A monster came creeping in and stole my light.

Now I just hope to live with that loss,
No clue where I lost the girl boss.
The world didn’t scare me, I held my ground,
Now every whisper feels like a wound.

I pretend I’m grown, I pretend I’m whole,
But it’s just a mask over a fractured soul.
Still, deep inside, there’s a spark I won’t smother,
A dream that whispers: "You'll find another."

So here’s to being Betty with Veronica flair,
A mix of sweet honey and wild, untamed air.
I’ll mend these wounds, I’ll learn to endure,
One step at a time, till I feel secure.

We all face the monsters of our past, but there's always a spark left inside that pushes us to heal. How do you hold onto your essence when life tries to shift you?

Comments

Polished Sins

A suit and tie, that polished smile, Covering up sins stacked mile by mile. They flaunt “new love,” someone else’s child— A ready-made story, perfectly styled. They’ve “levelled up,” or so they preach, But on someone’s pain, they made their reach, With vows of loyalty, words so neat, While another’s screams lie beneath their feet. Oh, they “moved on” to brighter skies, Leaving someone broken, with silent cries. They mount new heights, they shout and boast— Scaling peaks on another's haunted ghost. So smile for the camera, flash your pride, Show off the life that you tried to hide. For we know the truth beneath your gleam— A hollow show, a self-made scheme.

Stay Away

Stay away, stay away Keep those hands away Stay away, stay away I am not on display Stay away, stay away I just want my name on the hard black clay Stay away, stay away I am a kid who just wants to play Stay away, stay away All these memories are like a never-ending screenplay ~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse

Model Men and Their Modern Myths

Here come the men who love their pride, With “culture” on speed dial, their mothers beside them. They want a wife who’ll light the lamp, While they scroll through pages of virtual vamp. They call themselves leaders, oh so wise, But sex ed is a topic they just despise. If you ask them about anatomy's flow, They’ll stammer, then boast about paychecks to show. Progressive now, they’ll have you believe, Because daughters study, and daughters leave The home to work—but don’t go too far, Or they’ll pull you right back by some invisible bar. They crave the respect, the honour, the fame, Yet when faced with real talk, they’re quick to shame. These "modern men" with their ancient views— One foot in the past, and the other confused. Oh, fools of entitlement, kings of the mud, With egos so fragile, they’re bound to flood At the slightest nudge of applied insight— They’ll laugh, then pull you out of their sight. So here’s to these men, these leaders so grand, With “values” in one, ...

Cruising Alone

Search This Blog