My eyes snatched at your name,
As I flipped through,
The back pages of an old diary,
I touched it with my quivering finger tips,
It hurt to think of all the promised possibilities,
But the pain itself was reassuring,
It ached and stammered through my bones,
A dose of euphoric rage,
That exploded into my blood stream,
Lighting up the dim corners of my rib cage,
That I had forgotten existed,
It was a privilege then, I thought,
That somethings never changed,
And never would.

- Imroz Adeeb Naqvi

Privilege

by Imroz16

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