For Sundays

Sundays are for the things you love.

For a dip within yourself.

For the memories that made you

And specially the ones that moulded you.

***

Sundays are for you

To love yourself, unwind yourself

To scatter the pieces of you

Carelessly, mindlessly.

***

Sundays are for the pajamas,

Messy hair, bad breath,

For strewing things around

To not care what people think.

***

Sundays are for you to go back

To your childhood,

Eat, say and do what you please,

Throw a tantrum when they say no.

***

As Sundays fade,

And you replace that chipped nail paint

With a bright shade, perfect coats,

Remember how it felt to be imperfect.

Look around at the perfect clothes

High heels, groomed beards

And realize they had their Sundays too

They have their masks on too. .

.

Sundays are for yourself

Every other day must be too. .

7 thoughts on “For Sundays

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