depression

a me

had i been real for once here
this what you are reading
right now
would have been invisible

between teeth glued with
a forbidden shyness
i would have homed lies about
my favourite books and songs

due to a narcissistic fear
i would have licked the sole
of your shoes and gulped down
the teary sheet of moss
stuck to my tongue

i would have smiled more often
and breathed only once i had
confirmed myself of kaleidoscope
beads for your eyes

because there’s a me that’s
flesh and blood
which reeks
of abdication
of hypocrisy
of conforming
of conquering
of satisfaction
so much so
that i wonder
if this here
the one writing this
the one who becomes a past
with every letter she types

did she ever exist?

Exalting ends and cowardice

“She was blessed.
That’s why she left..
..too early.”
But why?
You never talked
about the blessed
kid before
Until she died
And, apparently you
cried when she could
not stand to
bid you goodbye
It’s the way
you’ve always been
Until people go
through things worse
than you, and oh
you have seen the worst
because your mother
doesn’t talk to you anymore
“It’s never my fault.
It’s always her.”
And oh you have seen the worst
Because your father died
In front of your eyes
When you could’ve saved him
Instead you chose to lie
to yourself and us
Illusions so firm
We probably have a
false reality planted
in our heads now
It’s the way
you’ve always been though
You never acknowledge
anyone’s presence
until they have no
way out than to be absent.

“You don’t know how to appreciate people.”
Well that’s the way you’ve made me
Don’t you see?
I cannot look at myself
in the mirror properly
But, I don’t know how to
say that to you or people who
know my identity
This is all I can do
And, like a coward
in a dark room I don’t
even think twice before
typing this
Because that’s how much
of a coward I am

Anxiety | Repeat | Anxiety | Stop.

Should I
or maybe not?
‘Smile, Smile, SMILE!
Was it wrongly placed?
Is this the right face?
Maybe I stared too long
Or, were the words arranged wrong?
Will this be the right thing to say?
Or is it wrong to feel this way?
Why don’t I suit well with rhymes?
Say it, TELL THEM that you want it
No, it’s too expensive
I could never deserve it!
Maybe getting a tattoo
hurts sufficiently
But, the ink reeks of respect
I cannot get it done

Look, they are happy
You can be too | Never
Their smiles haunt me
I want them to stop
Stop
Stop living properly
Stop smiling
I don’t, when I know you are sad
For once can you not think like me
Measure your words, can you not?
For once, instead of me
Can you not?

“Measure, edit, measure, edit,
change, delete, I won’t say it
Measure, go back, check mood, think
words, words, what are the words
Measure, SPEAK, DON’T
Don’t say it yet!”

This house is too small
“She’s not a kid anymore”
I can hear them
“She’s not a kid anymore”
They talk and shout
because of me
How to live?
How do I live to make it stop?

Don’t
Please don’t
Do not worry about me
Leave me alone | Don’t

Fly away
Break your wings
if that’s the only way

Blue Bus Stop and Funeral Dress

d

This is only how far I could have come
without looking back

Staring in the compulsive blue
of the cloud stained satin sky
that crowns reality with mirages
Life conspires to draw its
worth in nickels spent to
reach this impasse

Death had already lived
its due amount –
when she decided never to
calibrate life

Looking back
This is only how far I could have come

I am.

To be accepted
for what I am
is all I want
I cannot change
myself, no
I have tried
and failed
Why should I?
When you cannot?
To be a family
is all I ever wanted

“I cannot”, she said
I cried
I am still crying
How can you not
accept what is
already yours
because you made it
Made it and raised it
Raised it to not
accept it?

“I cannot”, she says again
And, I have to
accept that.

I shouldn’t have written this maybe, I might delete it…I feel severely depressed right now. I am sorry.

Beaten to behave

Pain unreeled from a walled heart
Projects her childhood from the
flashing brain on the rusted eyelids

A memory buried so deep, and
preserved carefully in salty tears and cold screams
that it remains vivid when unleashed…

She remembers not being able to breathe
The pillow dense with feathers under desperate hands
Every dizzy blood cell fighting to move…

“I wish you were dead” shouts the angry voice
hammering through her glassy sleep

The skin blotted with crimson patches
Rooted in robbed dreams
Nurtured with unfulfilled expectations
Grows when each slap is multiplied
with a fearless look in her eyes
to remind her that she is a survivor
as long as she exists
And, a victim if she doesn’t
Tainted yet burnished

 

 

Stop Child Abuse. It is one of those things that stays forever.

Today is one of those days

There are days
When my conflicted mind
won’t give up on reality

My thoughts are so dark
that meandering doesn’t help
And breathing doesn’t help either

Call it a bad day
in the life of an
undecided person
But failure for some
comes in
disproportionate ratios

And so I write
Write
Write
I will write
Until I start crying
To blur the words
To tire my mind

Inflicted

She smiles the smile of
a lady who’d lacerate
her sanity for extravagance
Looking at
the wall that wears the bulb
like an insignia
made of vapour
and fugacious delights

She flicks the light
on and off
And sits there
still as the clock
the weeping laughter
echoing through
the mundane
Her hands tracing the switch
like a dead body holds
a medical ventilator