We Are No longer in the Desert my Dear by Xenia Jamshed Bapasola in Singapore

We’re no longer in the desert, my dear. Why are you pulling at your ship? What are you trying to escape? You’ve reached the shores of paradise, Eden lies before your feet, yet, you are hoarding water from the river, filling wall to wall with bottles, watching them in the night, in sleeplessness, while anxious, sweating and parched. Why do you still feel the scorpions scurry about your feet, despite them having disbanded years ago? Resilient little creature, you know how to survive but forgot how to live. Even though you are no longer in the desert my dear, why do you cling to it?