The clock chimes midnight; there are tears in my eyes,
We only just met and I heard you say goodbye.
I can understand, god knows I understand why
you wouldn’t want to open this door, but I
can’t explain in simple words; however hard I try
I can’t form the right explanation for how the sky
started to look a little less bleak, my once-dry
hours became a little easier to take and I smile
every time I think of you; and each time
you talk to me I think: how wonderful to be alive

I love your little questions, the way you
wanted to learn the little things, and it’s true:
it’s the little things that get you through
somehow you made the time a little less blue,
the sky more so; I dreamed of happiness and you;
I started picturing you, wondering how you
laugh and whether you like the same things I do
and whether I’d fit perfectly next to you
or in your arms; I found excitement anew
waiting for the day I could run to you

You are the only thing on my mind
I swear; even when I’m out of it and out of time
you were the one filling my dreams and I
wish I could explain how for once inside
I felt warm without whisky or wine;
anticipation and possibilities were running high,
to get to sleep I thought of when I
could fall into your embrace; to call you mine
is all I dream: I’d even put down the bottle, I
would be so grateful to have even survived

If we could give this just one shot
my angel, please; somehow I forgot
how once I seemed obsessed with her and not
able to change; I’ve grown, I’ve changed a lot;
so please, I beg you, don’t be gone
please let me keep trying to explain what
I feel at the sound of your name; not
another person in this world could top
the way I feel for you; we could be in love
and I’d give everything for a chance for us.

I sleep through the morning
So I can hate myself
For wasting the day
I drink coffee until I shake
Smoke golds to make
Myself sicken and shake

Trying to empty my stomach
I starve all afternoon
I wish the pounds away
Night comes and I am
Caffeine-drunk now
I've purged my guilt today

The hunger builds inside --
I'm drinking to quell
The deathly hollow ache
The liquor burns and wine
Unsteadies hands that
Already tremble and shake

1am comes and I am tearing
Alternate wrappers and
Milky skin with blades
I cry red and weep tears
Of loss as my heart
Rests shallow in its grave

Pills call and so does food
By thousands I consume --
Monstrous I will decay
4am and I've purged to sleep
Drunk, dizzy, or dead
I await the dawning day.

*© Tara India.

and i did not conquer
the demons
that live inside my head
or the devils
that walk with me
i loved them instead

so i became obsessed with
joining those
i adore as my own ghost
the ethereal
the deathly is what
i dream of the most

now i have grown into
beautiful fantasies
of blood and eternal sleep
the desire to die
to free myself is the
greatest secret i keep

i slowly doubt the efficacy
of living and
breathing as others do
my lovely shadows
my best friends
i am coming to join you

*© Tara India.

and all the cigarettes I smoke
won't help me forget
the hunger and sickness of my soul

all the broken air won't swallow up
the darkness I face or
the way I live and numb cold

of night and ice or how I dream
of death's sweet chill
I know it already inhabits me

all the blood and tar and hollow veins
can't drain me dry enough
and stop me wishing I was free

*© Tara India.

I'm freezing from the winter within
Even under the sun I wither;
Empty-hearted, endless rejection:
Is life truly so unforgiving
Or is it my heart, my body,
Purely me predisposed to pain
And torture; am I so malignant
So unloveable and now so drained.

I'm sitting while the sun sleeps,
And the stars hover misty-eyed,
I'm trapped in some personal silence
In some self-made prison I rot, die
Have I been captured or abandoned
Or did I choose my isolation:
Hollow-eyed, did I lock this cage
Submit myself to this damnation.

I'm crying while the moon laughs
Its white face grins and burns me;
I'm running myself into the ground
To collapse, melt, weep daily
Over who I have lost through
Some poisonous desire to destruct;
For what I gave up, I incinerate,
I know now I'll never be enough.

*© Tara India

I spend my life
pin all my hopes
on future days
and times

I pick a day
to expect to be
saved upon
and wait

Sleep through the
tortured hours
eyes open but
in limbo

I dream this time
someone will see
to care and
fix me

I pray this person
will know how
to fill my soul
with hope

that they will get it
they will pull
me out of my own
darkness

I have my dreams
fixed now upon
this chance next
friday

I hope I won't
freeze up again
I'll open up to
freedom

In nine days
maybe I can
start to become
real again

*© Tara India.

pour yourself a drink
it's four o clock somewhere
and who cares if in the morning
you'll feel so much worse

pour it with shaking hands
from caffeine worse for wear
and no food that day
just as long as it hurts

let the wine spill down
in gulps of pain and regret
don't bother to measure
you'll feel a little better

let it race into your blood
all you want is to forget
your liver fails and body cries
with each sip saying 'whatever'

choose to lose your mind
and senses to getting ****** up
oblivion your only goal
hoping it'll be over soon

choose to disregard advice
because it's never enough
and neither are you as
you howl at an ignorant moon

drink down each new glass
with reckless abandon and hope
that you'll forget this night or
finally commit that deadly act

drink until you're hollowed
you empty out and heaven knows
you want to die each minute
now there's no going back

listen to voices instead of friends
to pain instead of love
part your skin to cry in red
because your eyes are stone cold

listen to acohol and pills
as the only things you trust
give up and give in because
your future is dust not gold.


*© Tara India.

The stars are dead, but they still shine
The light of their passage echoes in my eyes
For I am also wandering, a fading soul;
The sun burns too bright for my pale smile
The moon's turning seems far more worthwhile
As I hide from the bone-drenching cold

Autumn has fallen on the august land;
Summer lies slain by its clumsy, heavy hand
And her flowers wilt under the rain,
Lukewarm I sit, I breathe the musky air
Skin prickling I say it isn't quite fair
That over this land winter will resume its reign

Hollow-hearted I contemplate just how
I can live and breathe in the pain of now:
When darkness rules, not only inside
How can I be the summer girl they all expect
How can I live in awe of what comes next
If I am held by night with mid afternoon blind

They wish to see some monumental change
But I’ve been living stoppered in the same
Feelings, seasons, for all my years
I never truly felt summer in her fleeting kiss
I sleep like the dead; I must have missed
The heat and woken up to lady winter’s tears

So I remain as cold as the wind penetrating
Our respites, because I grew up hating
The way the ice keeps me trapped indoors
I didn’t realise it had crept into my heart
Until I woke up, and tried to start
Sitting in the sun and warming to something pure

My chances were fleeting, and one by one
I missed them as I anticipated the sun
This watery thing unsatisfactory, wanting better
I failed to appreciate what life had to give
Suspended animation is no way to live
And I think I’ll be waiting forever.

*© Tara India

The books are lined like soldiers,
Postcards litter the walls;
All signs are here, all lights are on
But is there anybody home?
The typewriter is clicked shut,
Gathering dust with the pens
And untouched paper which ache
To be held, used, or thrown
In madness, rage, or inspiration;
The kettle awaits its use
And the cigarettes sit unsmoked,
Here in the bed she lies alone:
Stopped, shattered with the choice
To eat or write or work
When really there's nothing to do,
She's drowning in this unknown.
No life, or sound in her breath
Glazed eyes; her empty head
Makes no mark upon the pillow,
Her bones lifeless as chrome
A week or two to pass; time
Dripping like sand in hours and
Minutes so hollow, so worthless:
A skeleton, a whale prone
Upon the bed, a shadow, she
Lingers like smoke; indecisive
She waits for purpose and to find
That dream and meaning of her own.

*© Tara India

buried myself in melody
in stage paint I wear all day
underneath my skin is cracking
my mind is unpinning
if only they could see

dress for battle and take them down
i could conquer anyone
well, except my demons
they have become my life
if only they could see

but if they saw my lies
stopped believing and really looked
wouldn't they lock me up
as my senses shatter
and I become insane

something came loose inside
this pretty little plastic head
under the oil and fame I rot
break: I die once more
and I go insane

*© Tara India.

Wasted on you are all the glories
Of a world you can only see
In monochrome and silent film
The lights are dull and weary

In greyscale you wander on
The blue sky goes unseen
Or unnoticed by your tired eyes
Head down you walk uneasy

Even your smile is a ghost
Never quite reaching your eyes
Vanishing as soon as they
Stop looking and you huddle inside

Your fragile shell and a mind
So worn down and tired
I hear every laughing word
And I know you are a liar

Or if not a wasted talent
The greatest actress alive
You can never break the glass
But keep pretending to be fine

Immaculately dressed just so
No-one will give you a second glance
You are so scared of everything
You won't give life a chance.

come to, limbs aching
realize you've blurred out again
walked two blistered miles
to feed a festering desire

fade back, into frenzy
behind locked doors you die
thoughts racing stop them
by eating your feelings again

bite, bite, chew, swallow, cry, repeat
over and over, filling, filling, repeat

come to, wrapper-shrouded
bed littered with your shame
count the calories, feel
that sickness and death again

fade back, into madness
pints of water until you feel
the fullness overwhelming
and race to emptying

reject, reject, gag, throw up, cry, repeat
over and over, empty, empty, repeat

come to, lying broken
on sympathetically cold tiles
once more you found comfort
in puking your feelings

fade back, unconscious
as your heart fails to beat
one day you'll **** yourself
in your fight to cope

*© Tara India.

Becoming broken is not a choice;
The slow degeneration
Has no fault or blame
It is when your mind is once more
Rectified; what you do from
There is not the same
When sick and becoming worse
I had no choice, my actions
Were not ever my own
But now sitting in the hospital
Seeing clearly my sad
Condition, I have grown
I can now make a choice
As I teeter on the brink
Of relapse and more madness
I could choose to fight
To walk away and learn not
To be controlled by sadness
It means now the flinging down
Desultory, of what I have craved
And sought for years;
It means closing some doors
Finding out what resides
On the other side of fear
To give up control, weight loss
Strict rules; to give up
On the easy destruction
To learn to breathe, to learn again
To feel and to smile
To fight these inclinations
While sinking I had no choice
While torn, no concept
That this is not what life is
But now in the aftermath
Seeing clear my insanity
I can choose to be more than this;
So I choose to do the opposite
Of what the voices say
I may not deserve food, love
But only according to
The devil resting in my mind
I must turn to the stars above;
To eat, learn to fuel my body
Appreciate its natural
Shape, resilience, form;
To stop harming myself as
Some sick replacement
To emotion; not be a storm
I must learn to settle and sit
With sadness, then hope
I will no longer seek to die;
To face my fears, challenge those
Old rules, and now I pray
I can learn to be alive.

A mother's lap, all downy flesh
Or a bird cushioned in the nest
Softness, light, and feather-white
We all seek our respites.

Warm bathwater and soothing scent
Sand, sun, and sea perlescent
In lover's beds and lover's rosy minds
We all seek our respites.

All beings crave some sweet affection
The relief of a loving connection
We seek home and it's delights
We all seek our respites.

We deserve love so we hunt
For feelings, closeness and trust
But do we really all live for light;
We all seek our respites.

What happens when we only hate
Ourselves, our bodies, and our weight
Can we allow relaxation and smile
We all seek our respites.

Some feel unequal to pleasure
For them, pain is to be treasured
More comfort in screams than sighs
We all seek our respites.

Some beings have to hurt to feel
When only pain and blood is real
A friend, your razorblade at night
We all seek our respites.

When the brain can be so cruel
Deprivation, denial, and their rules
Don't feel wrong but beautifully right
We all seek our respites.

For those of us in isolation
Undeserving of self-preservation
It's easier to suffer than to fight
We all seek our respites.

*© Tara India.

with my heart I have reached a strange impasse
I am trying to ignore my mind at last
to my head I propose some compromise
for at long last I do not pray to die

they can all see that I fight daily
to ignore these voices which call strangely
although I see my life is worth living
they are so cold and unforgiving

where once I walked with their hands in mine
a shallow crossing towards the finish line
I now ache to turn to solid ground
eyes to the sky I want to be found

still their hands tighten on my throat
I fear they will not so easily let go
it's a strange fight when clinging to life
I am constantly told I deserve to die

*© Tara India.

no abnormal  amount of sleep could cure
the tiredness that rests inside my bones
fatigue fills the hollow cage that
dreamlessly becomes my hellish home

no obscene quantity of food could satiate
the hunger residing in my soul
my heart is empty, craving for something
adventure, fire, or the great unknown

no blinding light could truly dim
the shadow living inside my mind
whose darkness overthrows all I do
drowns my pleasure in endless night

no sins of the flesh and gloried closeness
could still my desire for intimacy
to just be held, finally feel wanted
and like I mean the world to somebody

*© Tara India.

and i tried to cry, but i could not
for my tears had already been shed
in blood: five fine lines
that weep and wail underwater
into paper and cloth and
steal emotion from my dumb eyes.

*© Tara India.

she hears the real voices
through papery walls
and they dim
paling in comparison
to the screams
in her head

she sips the coffee
the scalded tongue is
nothing anymore
because at least she knows
that she can feel
something

the sizzling pan torments
with its calorific air
and normality
as she hears the real world
and sinks further
into her nightmares

from behind a locked door
with curtains drawn
she listens, hides
and is brought to tears
by the fact she
cannot join in

she cannot let go
let herself relax when it
is all or nothing
so she drifts and hopes
that everyone will
forget her

she thinks 'why must i sink
under the waves as
they all float'
truthfully she held her breath
and herself under
to escape

she'd like to be like them
she craves their version
of reality
hers is so tragic and
she is sure it
will **** her

*© Tara India.

I could spin you tales of new-found health
Or of my rediscovered desire for the wealth
Of life, and all it has to give
But I could never lie to you.

I may be free but I'm still so shaky
In my goals and my life and being free
The notion of dreaming to forgive
Myself for all I've been through.

It's unfamiliar and now I sit the same
Aching, shivering, and calling your name
I suppose I don't know how to live
I'm scared I won't pull through.

there is nothing romantic
or tragically beautiful
about wasting away

my sadness is not poetic
my scars are ugly
and so are shining blades

in cracked skin i find no art
no admirable trait
in learning to die

bathroom tiles hold no appeal;
you shouldn't look at me
and find me lovely

broken skin and broken minds
are not unfixable
but shouldn't be desired

being sick is not being fragile
not fire escapes at 3.am
or tears that fall on lovers hands

not bambi eyes and bones
but a complete loss
of all humanity and all identity

demons curl and the void yawns
the one inside your soul
and you have no love, no body, no name

when your mind is sick
every day is a curse
and it is never romantic

*© Tara India.

i'll walk alone at night
through the wrong side of town
i'll step in front of a car
not care as i am almost run down
i'll drink until i fall
and wake up in some stranger's bed
i'll pollute my lungs
with tar and nicotine and dread
i'll let you throw your knives
as i graciously walk the line
because there can be nothing
more terrifying than my own mind.

*© Tara India.

the sparkle of your dove-grey eyes
is lost in those tears; do not cry,
for nothing good happens at four a.m.,
nestle, wait, the sun will rise again.

star-spangled blackness is only
worthwhile when it shrouds dreams,
so wipe your cheeks and dredge up
a smile; find some self love

even if it is only in shreds --
I promise you're not better off dead.
it only seems so in heavy night,
star-child, you are far too bright

to let yourself be crushed or lost:
though easy, defeat bears a cost,
so pull up a laugh, and those covers;
do not weep for past or present lovers.

do not give your mind over to pain,
believe me, you are not to blame
for all the wrongs upon this world,
you are no god, just a heavenly girl,

so don't give up; soon the morning
will rise, a new hope is dawning
every day: will you seize this one
and shed the fear of what's to come?

please ignore as the voices wail
that you were only born to fail;
they're liars, with no life but
what you give them, don't give up.

so go to bed, comfort is allowed,
tuck yourself in, darling i'm proud
of you; one more day you've survived
and against all odds you're so alive.

*© Tara India.

The dawn breeze caresses my skin;
How torturous that I feel it again
Maybe this is why I am afraid,
Scared to sleep at night because I
Will still wake to see the new sun rise;
A new day begins even though I tried

It's slightly less painful to be awake
Then slumber through the daybreak;
I'd rather live in the dark than
Wake to it once again, still waiting
For the light hours in which I can
Live with some degree of truth

Birds awakening fill my tired ears
With songs of the new start ahead,
Each day is fresh but I'd rather wake
Midway through it than anticipate
It's coming, now it seems I am
Eternally in the dark, waiting.

I used to dream that I could be
A life lived out in vintage dresses and
Tea at four, fragile porcelain with
The clicking of typewriter keys

I used to dream that I could be
Net gloves and veils, heels always
High and elegant on the 48 bus
And lipstick lined on perfectly

I used to dream that I could be
Running the world – or femme fatale
Cutting words, seduction and vice
Cigarettes and whisky at three

I used to dream that I could be
Hitchcock’s heroine washed and set
Neat home and neater profession
Always carrying on productively

Yet now I see I will always be
Pyjamas till one, or all week
With day old hair – eyes smudged
Hungover and reeking of coffee

Yet now I see I will always be
Temperamental with my
Flighty pen and paper scribbles
Reading, writing disinterestedly

Yet now I see I will always be
Painfully average and mundane
Second-best, never measuring
Up to those surrounding me

Yet now I see I will always be
Warm wine – a microwave queen
A disastrous whirlwind unsatisfied
And dreaming suicidally.

*© Tara India.

My illness is in my eyes:
Do not judge me by my size
Or the normality of my thighs

My demons live in my heart,
And show themselves in part
In my all-consuming scars

But just because I seem fine
Don't presume I'm happy inside,
Or that I'm really alive;

The darkness lives within
My pale and common skin,
Driving me to destructive things

My faltering smile should be
Some clue to what haunts me;
Do not believe that I am free.

You'll see me eat and laugh,
But positivity will never last;
My sadness is not in the past

Eating disorders are not skin deep,
For when I'm tired I cannot sleep
I have many secrets to keep.

*© Tara India

It's the slow letting go
Waking up one morning with a clear mind
Unclouded by thoughts of the past
It's the way you realise
You've been spending your thoughts
On other things more built to last
It's not reliving your failures
As you go through each day
And yes you might still cry at night
It's the forgiving of them
And the cruel stars you once cursed
Even yourself as you see the light
It's realizing that even while
You weren't close to alright before
It is nobody's job to fix or save you
It's realizing you might
Someday be okay after this
The desolation may clear to truth
It's the slow release of
All the things you ******* in their heart
And knowing you will be okay
It's opening up to the future
Letting yourself see hope for once
Even though things will never be the same.

waiting, counting, the hours are rhythmic
timed and passed by the slow bruising
of dried-peach skin to sick blackcurrant
ringing metal beats out the hours I'm losing

although, is my time gained, as others are
sleeping; immune to the gloried stars
swimming in my eyes, and one more blow
eyes closed, mind draining to the dark

I see the dawn in all its false hope
out of step and keeping my own time
dullish aching through bones to heart
with sluggish veins powering a body's decline

sickness is sick; I am not in health
nails blueishly giving away my failure
to guard my sanity, its repercussions
leave me lying broken, bent, impure

tear-stained minutes tick disjointed
I'm underwater: airless, trapped
around me they fly, I sink, I die
now watch me fall off the inky map.

*© Tara India.

of course, of course, you're coming back
leave the lights on, you'll be home
******* can sit, and half a pack
of unsmoked straights; you'll be home

of course, of course, nobody will see
who else would -- you'll be home
the mail can wait, those pesky bills
will be paid soon enough, you'll be home

of course, of course, you'll have time
endless eternity; you'll be home
put off that call, ignore the ringing
you'll get the message, you'll be home

of course, of course, leave the cat in
you'll feed her later, you'll be home
set the tv to record, wine in the fridge
to enjoy tonight, you'll be home

oh no, oh no, they say not this time
this chance was your last, never coming home
worry and fret over things undone
a life unlived; you're never coming home.

*© Tara India.

I like poetry and cigarettes
I like to pretend there's nothing left
Of a heart, of my beating brain
I like to pretend I'm still the same
Girl you fell for who likes the light
I like to pretend that I'm alright

I like sunrises and late sunsets
I like to place my calculated bets
On the possibility of numbers, pounds
I like that I feel time running out
That my hours are counted and dry
I like to pretend I don't ache or cry

Or shriek, a banshee to the moon
I like to say I'll get there soon
I like to think I'm like Liz Taylor
In diamonds, not a rotting failure
I like to say I still dream of peace
That I'm not insane or craving release

I like lists, planning, and cold style
Brandy and whisky and travelled miles
I like pages filled with art
I like to think I'm still in her heart
I call myself a golden-age fighter
I like to pretend it's getting brighter
I'll say I love these things till I die
Because I've no clue who I am inside.

*© Tara India

my heart is not golden like yours
not harmonious in its beats
mine powers a deadened body
races leaden to its defeat

my mind is not beautiful like yours
no flowers of poetry grow inside
mine spews words and ugly thoughts
killing my corpse with poison and lies

my shell is not pretty like yours
i envy your confidence and grace
mine is cracked and deathly broke
my pain lies crusted on my face

my life is not happy like yours
yours has a heaven that is forgiving
mine is a merely an existence
in premature hell i am living.

*© Tara India.

Is it really a life, what you are living?
A slave to numbers and hate,
Turning your body into a machine,
A strange reflection of your turmoil
Tell me, is this really a life?

As you count your grapes into a bowl
Are you really feeling satisfied;
Or as you sit at home denying yourself
The pleasure of company,
Tell me, is this really a life?

Pounding feet matching the stutter
Of your heart, and the blood that
Runs sluggish in your skinny veins
As you run yourself into the ground;
Tell me, is this really a life?

Talking more to the voices inside
Your head than your old friends
Carving away at your skin;
Destroying what little of you is left
Tell me, is this really a life?

Or blindly chewing and swallowing,
Knowing you’ll hate yourself
But needing to feel, comfort is sought
In the numbness of food;
Tell me, is this really a life?

As the inevitable urge overtakes
When you’ve lost control:
You failed, you’re weak and now
As you bend over the toilet bowl
Tell me, is this really a life?

You never stop to think, well maybe
You dare not: you’re haunted
By the idea your time is wasted
So you are wasting yourself
Tell me, is this really a life?

*© Tara India

Although I long to be held so tight
I see stars; and your arms at night
Could hold my pieces together
Could patch the cracks, keep me
Afloat and standing, shakily
I cannot ask you for forever.

Do not hold me like I want
You'll cut yourself on my hipbones
The razors; my chest would bruise
You as you try to fix me now
Do not love me; I'd pull you down
I could not ask you to lose.

I long for your arms, I miss
You giving me life with your kiss
Breathing fresh air into my lungs
Expelling the poison I hide within
I'll burn you, hurt you, if I begin
To steal your life just to be young.

Although you want to save my soul
And piece me into something whole
Do not caress me as I crave
I'll ruin you; my bones are sharp
There's a hole in my stuttering heart
Maybe we should go our separate ways.

The night time inspires my honesty
As it inspires my madness
My demons face me with burning eyes
And I spill my secrets in
A true voice which only emerges at 3am
I understand everything in the dark
I know why you’re leaving again
I know why I can’t do anything these days
Why the world is such a terrible place
Why I am such a poisonous being
That not even those I love can tolerate me
Or love me to the same degree
I know why I once exorcised my heart
I wish I had never reinstated it
I know why I’m addicted to things
That seem like insanity to you
They take the pain away for a bit
Of loving and losing and living
Eternally abandoned and betrayed
Of never being the right decision
I know I’m never good enough
By night I can understand it
But that doesn’t make it stop
So I grasp my demons by the hand
Anything to escape these visions
Of hurt and loss and a life wasted
Of the hands that held mine
Of those who crushed me into the dirt
And left me to die or carry on
Worse than before and now under starlight
I see why I am so **** trapped
Once I fix upon something I cannot give up
I suppose that’s why I am still stupidly
In love with you and who we were
I let myself believe I could be forgiven
But now alone I watch the moon
I know why I’ve been cutting up my skin
And numbing myself in any way
That would help me escape
Just a little respite from the crushing deep
The sadness I bear as a cross
Carried heavily upon my fragile back
I know why I let demons into
My lungs and breathe them in willingly
I know as I sit in the dark
I am a plague upon this earth
I am a tornado spinning so recklessly
Through life that I devastate
Those who dare to get close to me
I know why they all leave me in the end
I prayed you would be different
For a while it seemed I was living out
My heart’s desire but I am alone now
Once again my only company
Is sickness and devils and destruction
And I understand it completely
But I still burn and ache from it daily.

Burning as the smallest star
I tried to be the moon,
To reflect your brilliance
My pure, fire-hearted sun
But I must burn myself,
Weakly, in my own destruction
For I have only ever known
How to set myself alight
Dark flames, burning out
I am easily covered
And like the stars
Once you truly see my light
I am already dead and gone
I am as dust, striving
To implode and remake myself
Some nebula, some galaxy
Dies with me and again
I create myself anew,
I was not born to daylight
To reflection or true brightness
I am the dark
It is all I know, and that
Is why to burn in safety
Will never be my destiny.

just what
am I meant to do
am I supposed
to lie
to pretend
smile and hide

or do you
want me to run
cry in the arms of
a stranger
a friend
honestly

am i
meant to live
exist like this
forever
ten more
years of hell

or do i
submit to pills
and therapy and
hope
one day to
be fixed

to be
made better by
magic and whispers
hazes
and drugs
can it work

and what
even is better
i have no real
comprehension
of another
life

*© Tara India.