Everything feels like its moving
It's coming closer...
I can't breathe...
Closing, tighter, hurting
Everything hurts
My breath is slowing
My bones are BREAKING
My blood is RUSHING

WHY AREN'T I DEAD YET?!

They stare at you.
They judge you.
They talk about you.
They hurt you.

Why?

Because they're "jealous"
Because they're "abused"
Because they're "hurting"
Because they're mean.

You cry at night,
You want to fight.
But you're scared,
You hate fear.

Your parents ignore you,
Sometimes THEY bully you.
Your siblings laugh at you,
They usually pick on you.

What do you do about this?
Nothing.

I am alone.
With just some people I'm moving on.
Some talk less, some talk a lot.
I don't know if they are friends or not.

I am alone.
With some fears I'm moving on.
Some are scary, some are not.
I don't know if they are real or not.

I am alone.
With some deep wounds I'm moving on.
Some hurt more, some hurt less.
I don't know if they will heal or not

I am alone.
With a fake smile I'm moving on.
Sometimes looks good, sometimes not.
I don't know if it works or not.

I am alone.
With some burdens I'm moving on.
Some are huge, some are little.
I don't know if I will repay or not.

I am alone
With some secrets I'm moving on.
Some can save me, some can lead me to death.
I don't even know my remaining breaths.

-Paras Bajaj #PoetrybyParas
Instagram : @mr.parasbajaj

there’s a girl
with pretty brown eyes
and the biggest smile that flashes
as she walks past you in the halls
she never seems to carry a frown
or be anything but happy
she carries an aura that makes you think of the color yellow
and people notice in her walk
and in her talk
that she is never troubled
this brown-eyed girl
comes home every sundown
with tear stained cheeks as her head hits the pillow
and is left with a sleepless night full of thoughts and dreams
she rehearsed that if anyone asked
she would respond with
“I’m used to it.”

She always walks around with a smile on her face, but inside her pride and hope is being crushed. She tells everyone, I'm okay, its nothing. But behind that "fine" and "nothing" was another tear that trickled down her cheek, and a sleepless night. She always has her guard up, and when people ask why, she doesn't want to admit that she had been hurt too many times, and each time that guarded wall just kept getting higher. She always puts effort into every little thing she does, and still feels like she will always get the short end of the stick. She always feels as if she will never be recgonized as the person she believes that she is.

She's hurt.

I want to fix you
I want to watch your eyes light up
I want to know what your laugh sounds like
I want to see the corners of your eyes crinkle up when you smile
I want you to crack the worst jokes just to make people laugh
I want to hold you without you flinching
I want to touch you without you screaming
I want you to sleep without nightmares
I want you to feel comfortable in your own skin
I want to wipe away the marks
I want to heal the scars he left
I want to fix you