I go to sleep every night,
Promising to make tomorrow better,
To do all that I want to
Better myself and my life,
And allow myself to be happy.


I wake up each morning,
Once again, making the same
Hollow promises as last night,
To make everything right tomorrow,
Each time failing to act on it.


Every afternoon following,
Leaves me drained,
Irritated and frustrated,
Begging and praying to the God,
I don’t seem to believe in anymore.

Every sip of my evening coffee,
Brings through my head,
Ideas to express myself,
To know my self and help,
Baseless promise with it.

I walked into a church today,
One I wanted to visit for days,
I passed by it, saw the huge doors open
Inviting me in daily, but I just didn’t go in.

I’m a Hindu by religion,
Indian by birth,
I have an older sister,
My mom and my dad obviously.

Why am I telling you this?
Well because I’m everything but
Happy, calm and sorted,
Just angry, irritated and anxious.

They fight, my mom and dad,
They love each other, or maybe they don’t,
But they fight and argue,
They don’t hold back on concern either.

They talk a lot, my sister and him,
The guy she’s seeing but not dating,
The guy she’s serious about but hasn’t met,
She’s always on the phone, sharing every bit of her life.

I entered the church,
Felt nothing, felt the same as usual,
No excitement, disappointment, nothing,
Temples don’t help either.

I love my family, they love me back,
They care and support me, a lot!
I don’t want it most of the times,
It both keeps me alive and suffocates me.

They are always there,
Standing right by me,
If not in person, then by spirit,
Always a call away.

I talk to them every day, thrice,
Twice at least, message my whereabouts,
It’s a habit, a want, a need
To let them know everything about me.

They are fighting now,
I got an email this time,
Not a phone call, nor message,
Mom lied, that she’s got her migraine.

Dad’s left the family WhatsApp group,
Blamed it on the work stress,
But I know better, we all do,
I may be the youngest, but I’m 20.

My sister’s fed up with me,
Well she’s not the only one,
I shout, scream, screech rudely,
Loudly, with no sane reason.

I know I need help,
We all do, for anger,
To love and feel loved,
But it’s never going to happen.

I am a psychology student,
I want to let the world know,
With my research that depression and anxiety,
Can’t be beat with medicines nor by expressing.

My sister’s a Human Rights student,
Who wants to help people,
Support and care for them,
You can’t, nothing will end human suffering.

We are the sole cause of it,
Human suffering, the ones with fuel,
The ones with the extinguisher,
Yet, each time we choose poorly.

My family is broken, ******* up,
It’s surviving on a thin string,
But it won’t break, ever,
We’ll all just drift apart.

I feared the unknown,
Of who’s going to pop out when,
Who’s going to **** who,
These TV shows frighten me no more.

I watch it day and night,
I see them rip out throats and hearts,
The blood gushing out from everything,
I don’t look away, but stare right into the screen.

I was scared of the dark,
The ghost behind me, under the bed,
Or someone ready to attack, misbehave,
I don’t look back anymore.

I walk alone all the time,
In a crowd and in deserted hallways,
Mind flashing glossy grave-like images,
Never fearing pain and death.

Monsters chased me,
Molesters haunted me,
Now I fear neither, instead I wonder,
Would I even cry and beg for them to spare me?

I don’t fear it, respect it, value it,
My death, my life, pain nor happiness,
I feel no joy, no tears, nothing,
Why would I want to be spared then?

My sketch pad, new, empty, unpainted in,
Was somewhere under the pile of stuff,
It’s almost lost, just like my inspiration,
I know where it is, I can point at it,
Just can’t reach it, catch it, box it up in me.

The half empty paint bottles are scattered on the floor,
Right next to the incomplete portrait,
The portrait of the real me,
Pieces missing, face devoid of emotions,
Messing me up, pushing me back into the darkness.

The rain pouring, clearing off the dirt,
On the windows and the world outside,
While I hope something similar happens,
So my insides are cleared, opening me up,
To possibility, to success and failures.

I missed out on a lot of things,
The beauty of the nature, of people,
In happiness, in helping, in kindness,
Something my irritation, frustration and annoyance,
Shielded, perfectly, keeping me out.

The day the portrait is completed,
Is the day I move on, the day I open myself,
The happiest day, the brightest day,
The beginning to my forever, that’s seems lost,
My one true dream!