Just Haven’t Made You Stay Yet

Chasing a ghost I am,
with you.
Echoes of words
are all you leave behind.
Forcing me to force myself
to find contentment
in the seconds
when I had you
all to myself.

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Lady Jughead lives and writes in the city she loves and hates, Bombay. Without meaning to and harbouring mixed feelings about it (You’ll see the irony in just a bit), she’s forever wandering in the murkiness that exists between straight and gay, clear and clueless, butch and femme, cute and hot, and genius and insane. All of which leave her with a question that often occupies a significant portion of her cognitive capacity – is she Just Perfect or is she falling fast into the deep chasm of obscurity called Just Average?
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