Why am I so messed up?
That I can hardly talk
My tongue moves but
Noises don't come out
Am I challenged?
Against my own self
Will the war within me
Ever cease to peace
Continuously I keep talking
But just to myself
When will I make my voice heard
My past has been horrendous
My future bleak
In all this circumstances
Is my present too
Getting weak
I need to arise
I need to talk
I don't know
How and where
But I need to open up
My black heart!

-Nirmohi

What is your opinion if
Your knowledge meant nothing?
What if your life's work was
Not what you were calling?
In my mind I search Heaven, Hell
The Universe and the Earthly planes
My mind, my soul
Reasons for life
Philosophy and psychology
Where is all this leading me to?
Do I hold value for myself?
Or in the talks I have with myself?
Or am I just reasoning
Motivating
Something, anything
Healing?
I am almost 30
Not a college graduate
I take the train
I am not established in my career
I can go on a shopping spree though
That won't ease the pain though
It won't fill the void of black
Maybe I have been wrong all the time
All of those books
All of that time spent
Reading, writing, thinking
Imagining, feeling
Is in vain
I go to a thousand places
In my brains
Sometimes it is nowhere
No one knows
If zero is nothing
Doesn't that make it something?

I often wonder
Why do I write some days
And not on others?
Emotional turbulence
Makes me write
A sentence or two
Just to calm it
On the surface
I forget in this turmoil
Where am I actually
Hiding all the trouble
Or rather am I even doing so?
With passing days
My writing decreases
Does it signify
My pain too is vanishing?
Or am I above the stage where
I am unable to write even in pain
I wish to rest my case
With all the problems
With all fingers pointed at me
For there is nothing more
I can write
Or express!

- Nirmohi