Slowly the life is slipping from my grip,
Wishing each day the same thing,
To end the pain, to have a chance,
To begin a new beginning,
With hopes high enough to dare,
With life that has no pain,
A life where nothing is shared,
No sacrifices, no helplessness
No remembrance of tiny details that caused pain,
A life where regret isn't an instinct choice but accomplishment is,
Where equality persists in every corner,
But what to do, life is slowly slipping from my grip.
Where once I was strong enough to walk first in the class with a pony tail,
Followed by my sister shy enough to make her cheeks red,
Climbing the ladders to success where turning back is a big NO,
Where I went with the flow,
A time when my father tied bed sheet whenever I slept in the middle or upper birth of the train,
A time when my mother ate when everyone else had,
A time when I couldn't see what I should,
Oh how I remember these gestures clearly?
Which was once unseen by me,
To make me feel like I have gained some kind of super power,
To make me feel like I have missed a lot,
A life now a burden,
Where I exist not to live but to survive.
To live so to maintain an order,
So my parents couldn't go insane, thinking that it's their fault,
When each and every decision was mine.
To let them heal seeing me heal,
To let them believe that everything is going to be okay one day,
To let them become proud parents of a writer,
To let them see, me being reborn.
A good life it was,
Making greeting cards for my teachers and parents,
Making sure to see them smile each day,
Being a brat and angel at the same time.
Laughing and being around my friends,
Forming a pack unbreakable.
What a good life it was where worries was a distant relative,
A life dreamed by many but given to some.
Oh how happy I was to live in an artificial world,
Where everything and anything was possible.
Now stands an idol,
Forced to smile,
Designed to fake,
Taught to love,
Taught to express,
Slowly dying each day,
Living the same day,
Being same each day, a chubby girl within a castle,
Formed to protect,
But caging me in some way.
Wings she had and was born with it,
But what to do, flying high isn't in her hands no more.
Slowly dying each day,
Fearing karma would get me,
Being puzzled at the same time thinking what I had done wrong.
Besides making my parents and sister cry,
Besides demanding and ordering them around,
Besides making them feel helpless,
I have become what I feared.
A girl selfish enough to ignore their tears,
Shameless enough to blame them,
Criticizing them at every point,
A girl evil enough to be blind to her mistakes.
Dying each day praying to end it once and for all.
The mountain is now heavier to carry,
And shortcut is not in an option.
Living a nightmare each day,
Whether it be day or night,
Life is slowly slipping from my grip,
The grip that has loosened with time,
Ready to let go,
Ready to let it go.
YOU ARE READING
Dying
PoetrySometimes living becomes a burden where now each and every elemnt in our life seems to work against us making us sad and angry and making us feel mixed emotion that are hard to get through without love and support