A budding writer's collection

Haunted

Can two decades be turned into a mere illusion?

What happens to the trust placed on the wrong person

when truth obliterates it?

Is there any other place it can call home?

There is a weight on my chest,

'Tis all the familiar 'what-ifs' of grief

Who am I crying for?

The person I loved stopped to exist a decade ago.

And then there is the near-constant abuse,

It makes me wish I could shrink into an ant

One thoughtless step that will take me out,

Or if I were a butterfly, I'd fly away from it all

Who am I grieving?

Is it myself or you?

Why did you have to turn the pure white bond

Into shades of grey I once could never fathom?

It has torn me into pieces,

It has destroyed me from within

But who in this whole bloody world

Will ever get me?

Even my makers only see your invisible guilt.