“Be glad when things hit rock bottom because then, things can only get better.”
But what if I am falling into a bottomless pit,
one that winds deeper and deeper until I am surrounded by something so dark,
I can’t even see my own fingers.
“Please stay by my side”
What empty words, hollow of meaning.
I know its hopeless – we all do.
When push comes to shove,
depression make promises sealed once-upon-a-time lose its value.
I thought you knew me.
I thought I knew you.
I was mistaken.
I can keep wishing for better days:
of smiles and promises that you would never leave but I’m still alone
and some days, I am attacked by vague memories that should not matter anymore-
On the bus 14, on the way to school after lunch
Late night phone calls talking about our feelings and dreams and aspirations
I used to be invaluable –
now I’m cast aside like an old toy that a child has got bored of.
She moves on, but I’m still her;
Picking up the remnants of the meaning of “friendship”,
or should I say “the friend who sailed away on the ship”
On some days, I am happy.
Those days, I am not me.
I am blissfully unaware of the pain fourteen years of existence had inevitably caused me.
I am a collection of scars that still hurt.
On some days, the sadness grabs me by the neck and refuses to relish its hold on me.
On those days, I will be in my room,
a blanket over my head and music blasting a little too loud on its good.
That’s sad – a perfect life, a perfect family
and yet, I am still so full of pain, scars and insecurity.
I can only hope; hope that something good comes out of this.
I hope that this wouldn’t end up as scars lining my hands –
scars that wouldn’t heal no matter how much time has passed.
{d.c}