“I missed you until I realized there was never really anything to miss but the peace I felt before I knew you.”
— Unknown
Pink Sugar Cookies
I'm exhausted from listening to music,
Making an effort feels impossible,
Waiting seems endless,
Even the things I love feel burdensome.
Nothing I do helps me feel better.
Getting up from my bed is a struggle,
Relieving the pain feels like an uphill battle,
Accepting the pain is overwhelming.
I find it hard to validate myself,
And to give my heart the love it deserves.
What's the point of living if you can't be there for yourself?
Why did I give myself to someone without any guarantee?
I hate to acknowledge its return,
And this time its aim is ambiguous,
Which makes it all the more disturbing.
It breaks my heart,
I feel like a soul trapped in my body,
Trying to break free from these unwanted thoughts.
I feel imprisoned in my own mind and body,
My soul shackled by my physical form.
Every racing heartbeat feels like a cry for help,
As if it’s banging on a door, begging to be freed.
My mind acts like a silent watcher,
Its evil laughter echoing,
Seeming more wicked than ever.
I know this isn't me,
Because if it were, I would open the door,
And let my inner self find happiness.
I feel helpless,
Falling back into the dungeon.
And I don’t know if I'll be saved again by someone,
Or if I’m just waiting to drown and crawl back to my space.
I don't want to drown,
I'm scared like a baby.
I can hear people calling my name,
I can hear her calling.
It feels good to be called by name:
"Arundhathi... Arundhathi..."
It's my friend calling,
Pooja is calling me,
And I’m twitching suddenly.
Help, please, please ask for help.
Am I being overdramatic, or am I just a little stressed?
I don't know what can help me feel better.
Exercise, a walk, or a long talk with my friend, or making new connections?
What can I try?
Is this a poem? No.
Writing poems relieves stress,
Makes me feel like I'm good enough.
Honestly, I don't doubt my abilities anymore.
I know I'm good enough.
And poetry ensures that feeling always stays.
But this isn't a poem; it's a stream of consciousness written in verses.
I'm so happy tht I'm not crying now
Guessing the tablets indeed worked
I wish this world to end soon, so I can pass away without causing anyone sadness and finally escape from my perpetual mental anguish.
laying below the lights
2024/11/09
with you, i’m the happiest
Everything happens for a reason
No matter what happen think positively
“Breathe in experience, breathe out poetry.”
— Muriel Rukeyser
Turned over 20 pages.. Still couldn't find any new twist to spice things a bit..
Ahh but won't lose hope.. Its somewhere around to make an iconic entry to cheer me up
Imma waiting keenly for ya kiddo
“Move on. It’s a chapter in your life. Don’t close the book, just turn the page for a new chapter.”
— Brooklyn Copeland