Born
Into a world
Of trauma

Things continue
To go downhill
Every single year
Of my life

They keep getting
WORSE
With only small snipits
Of being alright
Just enough to keep me
Hopeful and alive

But whats it all for
When life throws me out
Onto the floor
And continues to pour
My hopes
My dreams
My love
My sanity
Right down the drain

Worse
WOrse
WORse
WORSe
And WORSE

Fetch me from this place
Keep me eternally safe

Let me live in your arms
Please be my personal escape

I cannot face life
For the life I want
And possibly need
Is one where
My effort is required no more

Please
Goodbye
Please
Lie
Please
Let
Me
Go
And
Die
Peaceful­ly
Within
Your
Arms
In
A
Bed
Of
Your
Love
Before
I
Get
WORSE

i see visions of various
lives that were mine
in a different place,
at a different time.
and i hear conversations
with friends from elsewhere,
but they aren't here now,
so i wish i was there.
and i know it's just signs
of me losing my mind,
but it's such a small price
if they make me feel loved.
i can barely hold back
from letting it loose
to consume me completely,
since there ain't much to lose.
all i have is a dream
of not wanting to die
in a different place,
at a different time.

You didn’t notice when I was sad, your excuse; you had work to do.
You didn’t notice when I fell down, your excuse; I was too far away to catch.
You didn’t notice when I was mocked endlessly, reduced to the lowest of all.
You didn’t notice when I left.
You forgot my birthday. July.
My favorite color. Purple.
You forgot I had family issues. Isn’t that what you always do?
When I cut myself, you used it against me, knowing very well you were the reason.
Not that I expected any less.
You forgot I was right next to you, and more importantly, you left me.
You left me for her.
You left me for her. Again.
You left me for them.
Don’t you have a heart?
Didn’t you say you care?
Why do you always lie to me?
I guess its cause you never notice me anywhere.
So would you even noticed if I die?
Just asking.

Sunny days are rainy days
Going over to storms
And the thounder roars
Lightning the only light

Standing at the Edge of life
the mourning wind, tries to push me over
but I stay strong as an willow
I'm the tree, that doesn't break

The falling rain Turns into a river
The water current becomes wilder
It tries to pull me down
But I'm the Willow, that won't break

The lightning strucks into the other trees
And the fire Breaks Out
Ash and smoke surrounding me
But fire won't get the tree

The storm it grows
Ripping Out the Forrest trees
It still tries to Break me
But I'm the tree, your worst enemy

But at one day
The sun came Back Out
The storm is away, the water drained
I'm the tree, that will stay 'til the end

Life needs a fire of happiness inside me.

The one inside me died when people refused to even have a look at my independently published novels.

I tried to write books inspired metaphorically by my own life-threatening coma-inducing high-speed bike accident. When the Indian publishers rejected my manuscript, terming it as poorly written or full of proofing errors, I self-published my novels on the Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing Program.

So far, I have successfully achieved twice as much success than what I envisioned in my first novel. I completed my graduation despite that accident, just like Akshant did so in the novel. Then I even got the M.Tech on institutional scholarship. Afterwards, I even started a PhD course in Animal Biotechnology from the same ICAR-National Dairy Research Institute as my M.Tech on institutional scholarship, but had to quit it when COVID19 struck. I started preparing for various competitive recruitment exams.

I qualified as a Probationary Officer with the Bank of India through the IBPS PO/MT CRP-XII, but joined the State Bank of India as a Probationary Officer because that was a better option.

As I had cleared even SSC-CGLE AAuO exam, I later quit the SBI PO job when I received the call letter from my present job.

Some people have even dared to defame my novels by rating them badly on Amazon.

Now I have to accept that I can't ever expect my friends, relatives, or colleagues to read my novels. I'll just focus on my job and forget that I wasted 14 years in writing and self-publishing the 9 titles on Amazon as Kindle eBooks and hardcopies. Maybe my depression will help me passively **** myself one day.

My blood pressure is already much lower than normal. Vitamin supplements help, but temporarily.

So many artists have died due to depression. I shall not be the first one. People can go berate my novels on Amazon. My parents tell me that since I have a job now, I shouldn't focus on my creative expression.