“You shouldn’t be here” they hiss
Call, whisper from every
Wall and atom of air around me
Constantly overwhelmed
By deserving to die
By living too long and
For no true purpose
My heart beats on stolen time
And I painfully aware
I should have been
Long gone --
Long dead by now
I don’t quite recognise
My own voice as
Those most prominent
Scream -- screech
“It should have worked”
Last time should have been
The last and not the
Most recent
My breaths are tainted
And undeserved
I wish I were dead --
Do I wish it or them
Waves of inertia sweep
With worthlessness and
Life’s futility
Over me they wash and
I cannot resist so I merely
Hold my breath and
Pray to drown in them
“Coward”
For not letting it work
For my survival instincts
I shouldn’t be here
My place is six feet
Under the ground
I should be dead
I deserve it
But still I want to live for
The things I have
Yet to taste or
Touch – kiss or own
Through my hopelessness
I try to keep going but
They are intent upon
My imminent fall
My death
They paralyse me and
Trick me daily
Into believing I am worth
Nothing more than
Pills --
Blades or bridges
Or bullets
Lonely and ashamed I sit
Guilt covering me
Immobile
Unable to function
Simply wishing to be free.


*© Tara India.