Why write?

Because that’s the only thing I can do

the only thing I can push myself to do

Not quite, but still writing enough to stay afloat.

It’s said if you say something out loud or write it down

It loses the power it had on you

Then why am I still haunted

By my own words, and the ones that were said by you

I told myself let it be, I’l be fine

I’l make it out on my own

Then why do I question myself, my actions, my words?

Words were once my peace of mind,

What actions lacked, I found in words

But now words themselves seem a weapon attacking me

Mine or someone else’s what does it matter

My mind isn’t in the right place

So why would the author matter?!

These words now direct my actions

And I have no option but to oblige

Nothing to hold onto, yet I somehow survive

Who knows how long is this life

I could count moments but then it would be like wasting my time

What else would I anyway do?

All efforts seem to be in vain

I find myself at the starting point again and again

So I give up, not on life

But on hope, that things would change

What good would happen even if they did

Who is to say I won’t find myself at the starting point once again?

I don’t find words anymore to make a sense of the chaos in my head

But what does it matter, soon it will be time to hit the bed

I sleep away my worries, or so I like to think

It all comes rushing back, the devil staring with a grin

The restlessness takes a hold and then it releases me

I wonder am I that toxic, that even restlessness cannot stand me?

I have reached a crossroads with no intention to walk ahead

I’l be sitting here by myself, not thinking about what’s next

The future has lost all its glory, the past is long forgotten

As always, loneliness is my faithful companion.

It takes a backseat when it sees I found company

Never questioning how long will it be

It knows me bit too well to know it’s only a matter of time,

I will again be at the crossroads,

Sitting idle with a vacuum in my body, and pressure in my head

Punishing myself to have had hope again.

So here I am at the starting point, with nowhere to go

If you see me at the crossroads, don’t stop to say hello

That’s my home, it’s certain now it isn’t temporary

This is life, a bitter bitter symphony!

Photo by Divazus Fabric Store on Unsplash