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Khushi Batra Dec 2020
So many acquaintances on social media,
But no friends in reality.
All alone in this world.

I check my phone to see zero messages,
No one checking up on me,
No one wishing me "Merry Christmas."
Everyone enjoying in their own world, be it with blood or be it friends.

Loneliness is the only thing that I'm surrounded with.

I'm all alone.

All alone in this world.

Always forlorn.

No one knows me; no one cares about me.

I'm just a lonely person with a phone in hand crying over pointless things.
Khushi Batra Apr 2020
angst has vexed over my every thought. my eyes are embedded with grief and its every tear bleeds sorrow.

my legs drag my aching frame away from the warm blanket to my freezing balcony. the cool air has chilled my every bone but i keep on lying on that cold surface.

my soul seems confined from east to west, yet i can only dream of darkness gliding over my veins. a constant state of misery with a spoon of hate.

my eyes are wide open, watching the ever darkening sky breathe, with the stars forming the shape of, wait, a person, i think. a person who looks exactly like me, who cries herself to sleep, has scars on her wrists and falls apart as soon as she closes her room's door.

my body seems numb, absolutely empty, as empty as an addict's bottle. my eyes start closing, shakily i shut my balcony's door shut and enter my room only to feel how foolish i was, to believe it'll get better.

the sun has risen but the light doesn't seem to reach my soul. i am unable to sleep, so i just get up and make myself a cup of coffee.
everything gets better, my ***.

Khushi B
Khushi Batra Sep 2019
The bloodied wound
Of patriarchy
Swings majestically
Round my neck,
Wavering my thoughts
Of what to be
And what not to be.

I look around
Viewing people fight
Misogyny and sexism.

For I try to do that too,
Until I fall once again into a muck,
Watching **** crimes
On a daily basis
Watching acid attack victims
On a daily basis.

For, some
Are too illiterate to know the meaning
Of the word, no.
For their egos are so small,
That they can’t handle rejection.

The bloodied wound
Of patriarchy
Hangs majestically
Round my whole body,
Begging me to tame it,
Oh dear lord,
There is ****** of womanhood
happening all around,
With people pointing to the length of our clothes,
To the pitch of our voices.
Khushi Batra Sep 2019
I abhor myself for breathing in grey,
When I wish to come out as a rainbow.

But they say it’s erring,
They make me feel mortified of some delinquency I have never performed,
They glower,
They call me horrendous things.
They take me to the temple,
To sponge off everything they think is wrong,
And do not realise god has more significant issues
Than a girl lying curbed in a closet.

My mind is anxious,
My body is insecure,
I am ashamed,
For, I do not have the nerve to bolt their mouths with my fist,

It feels that this society will never let me escape,
Some call it a phase that will just pass,
Some call me confused.
But in real, it’s there mind what’s fused.

The hole I am confined in,
Is small and suffocating,
I am unable to breathe.
Oh dear, when will I stand in light
With my head held high with pride?

Getting accepted is much more than getting a prize.

But I will rise,
I will rise from this,
And will feel glad and proud for who I am.

I am a rainbow!
-Khushi Batra
Khushi Batra Oct 2018
A sinister night,
Where cheeks are flushed
And face is light,
I ran towards my sister,
With a bucket of candy and eyes of a devil,
“Booooooo” I frighten her.
“Aaaaaaaa” she screams.
Oh my, it’s me, your sister.
How’s the ghost’s costume?
Happy Halloween!
Khushi Batra Oct 2018
more sunshine,
more smiles,
more laughs,
more happiness,
more kisses,
more cuddling,
more conversations,
more flowers.
less snow,
less squabbling,
less darkness,
less pain,
less sorrow,
less regret,
more love.
more humanity.
Khushi Batra Oct 2018
Day 1
I see you, you see me, hellos are exchanged.

Day 2
You call me pretty. You ask me on a date. I tell him no.

Day 3
He sees me again, drags me in a deserted alley. I say no. I scream no. I shout, but no one listens. His friends arrive, I resist, I ask them to leave me, but they left unconscious.

Day 4
I wake up naked, in a deserted alley, with my clothes all tattered. I cry, I call for help, no one does. I stand up, walk towards my home, facing the murmurs of the neighbours.

Day 5
I lay unconscious in my shower, from all the crying.

Day 10
I force my legs to move out of the house, only to feel disgusted by the male species there.

Day 15
I wake up to see my friend moving out for she can’t stay with a **** survivor.

Day 18
I force myself again to step out of the house. I cross the street, only to be haunted by their faces, only to feel their voices echo in my ears.

Day 20
I visit the police station. The investigation began. I showed them the bruises. But the police officer’s ***** looks made me return back.

Day 30
I start with my therapy sessions.

Day 65
I had a panic attack again, this evening, when a guy asked me out.

Day 70
I saw their faces again. In that alley. Under my leg. In my lips.

Day 120
I saved a girl today from being *****.

Day 200
I have started having nightmares, again.

Day 250
Today was my last therapy session.

Day 300
I plan to speak up.
Day 301
I visited the police station.

Day 305
They asked me why did I take so long? I had no answer.

Day 307
They came for questioning again. I narrated them the whole ordeal.

Day 309
They started investigating. I still get nightmares.

Day 320
They closed the case, for there was no evidence.

Day 321
I narrated it to my family members, no one believed me.

Day 365
I hung myself.

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