There are days you can’t hold back
precious silly smiles,
There are days you blare the horns
of wildness and let it all go,
There are days you hit rock-bottom
and fight with your head against those voices unknown,
And then there are days when you’re
wholly, completely, terribly alone.
Memories are there to haunt your agonising
dreams.
Scary, monstrous, raging fire-
those engulfing dreams.
You sleep off to consuming fears,
and wake up to worse.
A morning without sunshine, a day
without any life,
An evening of monotony, and the
nights- oh, they kill.
Sinking low. Further, deeper,
lower.
That ghost of a pit of all that’s unwanted
and unpleasant meets you down there.
Laughs a mocking laugh, slaps a
stinging slap.
Slaps hard, and inches closer to be
with you, be close to you, and become you.
And soon you’re the ghost yourself,
the pit- your kingdom of solitude.
And then the ghost leaves you too. Just
like they all do.
You run amok, you scream aloud,
You become a withered tree,
You are the grand old sun yourself-
aged but you don’t attain wisdom.
You become your own misery.
What will you blame, and you will
you blame,
When you yourself are the epitome
of pain?
Of course you will faint but why
will you complain,
When you shoved this numbness down
your own scratchy lane?
Oh, it’s such an itch.
No, don’t crave for company.
Company rejoices with you but
company leaves you. (Like they all do)
Stare at the walls, battle with the
moon,
Don’t win any contest; just lie
crouched in your corner of abstinence.
Don’t speak a word; no, not a word.
Silent, unalarmed, ambition-less,
Alone. All alone.
