The moment I raised my head from my pillow made me regret the second I laid it in the first place.
I wake up, my body bloody sweaty.
The same sweat I get when I work out for hours at the gym except that this doesn't stink.
I guess I could say I was scared from my own dreams
Or were they just dreams?
To me, they weren't just any average nightmares that you dream of, like walking in the street where you find out that you forgot your keys at home , and when you check your pockets you can't find them because you are not wearing pants and you are standing there naked in public.
That was the good kind of nightmare.
But mine? Mine is the diabolical kind.
I see my whole life flashing right in front of my eyes. And I don't know what to feel or think.
And when I convince myself that it's my life and there is nothing wrong with it, I know that I'm lying to myself.
Because actually the life that I have, it's like I'm drowning in quicksand and every time I try to get out, I'd drown even more.
It's like when you try to breathe but you choke on the air you take in.
You're trying to reach out to life but death is pulling you from behind.
The feeling of being depressed has always hugged me tight while sleeping.
And apparently, I'm depression's favourite cuddle buddy.
This all happens at the moment I raise my head.
YOU ARE READING
Random Rumination
Puisi| #53 in poetry 20/2/2018 | ---------- ❝I like it. Maybe it's because my words look better on paper. Or because my lips fail to utter my words. ❞ - Phadwa : 0| My ink
