Yesterday I gazed at my wrist little more than usual wondering where exactly do I slash to feel less pain. Will I be able to chop my skin in the corner of my darkroom? When my mom will be chopping vegetables in the kitchen. Last year my mom painted my room pink to make it more alluring but what's the use of pink when my heart is cold and blue. Those shades of colours, hues aren't visible to me. I'm colour blinded who sees everything black. When rainbow appears in the sky, the atmosphere seems bright but my world reverses which is keen to provoke my verdict. When small stuff starts to bother, you must be walking towards the path of darkness. There's a thing about depression. The more you try to push away the tighter it grips. My mom bought me a cup of a coffee this morning a little earlier than usual, even tho. I was already awake her presence didn't excite me the way it used to do. She glanced at me once, twice, thrice her gloomy eyes boosted my despair even more. Mom, space between us was already so wide. I couldn't even sip or heave the coffee. Those words died inside me like our relation. We haven't talked since months just a mere stare morning. Mom, I wanna scream my lungs out. I haven't touched her since long. I miss her smell, the fragrance I once loved. Those endless hugs used to warm more than the heater. The tears I shed on her lap. Are all those things forbidden now? Mom, please hold me, soothe my irregular heartbeat just for once. Will you listen to my last wish? My breaths suffocate me more than opaque life I live. But here's a thing, Aren't I? dead already. My soul which was supposed to make me at ease betrayed me long ago. My pierced heart carry the arrow of somnolence and grief. I'm just waiting for my eyes to rest, my soul to get freed and my corpse to greet graveyard.
I'm having war with the world when my opponent is dwelling inside me.