Melancholia

I read somewhere," Write hard and clear what hurts".

Well, i have hardly ever written and spoken about the things that hurt me,

when i do...i tend to relive those horrifying moments.

These scars take me down the memory lane at the very sight of them, engulfing

me with sadness for days even when i'm embraced by ecstasy, striking like bitter truth one tries to hide by putting up a smile for the world to see.

It's the cycle of life: a few moments of joy followed by moments of despair and again.

But i have become so accustomed to the pain that happiness seems like an illusion, slipping away so easily that it scares me. Making me wonder why?.

No matter how much i write about it, it will never be enough.

No matter what i do the haunting melancholia never leaves...