I apologize
but, do you remember the last time you were in the most inconspicuous part of the room,
but, still at the centre of it?
The sheep, biped ones, keeping more than considerable distance,
albeit, their pupils are cramping you in.
And then Moses stretched his hands towards the sea.
The strong east winds split it into two halves;
Sympathetics and Sycophants.
The sycophant clowns murmur you into a joke and the sympathetics try and hold themselves back.
“Poor bloke,” they said.
And then there's you,
trying to find a way through that maze.
You, the Arjun from Mahabharat,
blocking everything out
but, have no idea where the bird's eye is.
Running through the Valley of death,
or more commonly known as school corridors.
That is the last thing you remember.
Then you appeared here.
You cannot remember, how the pillow landed over your head or,
how did you end up cried-up on your bed?
Seriously!?
For all the anxiety,
depression,
oppression and,
depletion,
you had to go for amnesia.
Maybe it's because of the listed or,
maybe it isn't, you're not sure
but,
the one thing you are certain about is that,
you do not belong here.
You're not worth the sanctity.
Maybe,
you're not worth this reality.Respectively, to the puns unintended,
Let us forget about that.
Let us talk about 1935.
On the brink of a global war,
Two men went through something similar as you.
They just wanted it to end.
They just wanted the string of time to curl up and play with it
like little, careless kittens.
Talking about curling up, what if you actually could do that?
What if you actually could compress everything into a ball?
And then make it smaller.
Singularity is obtained.
Something you might not be comfortable with,
neither were they.
So, they pushed their reality.
Forced the universal time to be a dimension.
And built a ‘bridge’ to the future fealty.
A bridge called - Einstein-Rosen bridge.
Or you might know it as a wormhole.
Or you might know it as time-travel.It can be built anywhere,
In your school, home or,
inside that pillow,
the one, in which, you've buried your head.
Remember, when people tell you,
“Sometimes, it's ok to cry.”?
I’d say, it's a necessity to cry.
Take all of your self-doubts,
your problems,
and compress them,
inside that small space of your pillow.
Then you'll see the transition.
The transition into a
different,
homely,
beautiful universe.
Where you belong.
Which you deserve.
Where you knew that,
This reality wasn't worth you.This.
What you're feeling right now.
The spark, mixed with self-righteousness
and sprinkled with a little bit of pride,
makes you wonder, -
Why were you so worried back then?
What stopped you from being this happy?
You really forgot about it.
Thus I ask you,
Are you really an amnesiac or did you really travel through time?
YOU ARE READING
The Good place
PoetryThis is a collection of all the poems I've written about everything I'm curious about and more. Literal pitstop is the pen name I write under on WordPress and Instagram.