Like getting ready and going out and getting drenched in sudden rain.
And all your hair undone and all your make up; washed out.
Like those untruths which started out as a joke but the words flowed and it became
a bag full of lies which could not be thrown in a trash can.
Like not knowing where you stand. Do you stand, at all?
Are you falling? Have you fallen? Will you be getting up soon?
Like standing outside a clinic and realising that
you really want the baby but can't keep it.
Like crying yourself to sleep and getting up in the morning
even though it's easier to sleep. And maybe even easier to reach out for those pills.
Like not knowing and all the thinking and wondering
killing you slowly and not being able to stop.
Like drilling holes in an already wounded heart
and somehow accepting the pain.
Like drowning in three feet water, it seems impossible
but it can happen and you don't even think of it.
Like not stopping, like not knowing if you can
and going around in circles looking for answers for questions never asked
Like shedding silent tears because you're mediocre
instead of brilliant; like knowing you have no right to cry.
~Anjee, Nov 2013
This poem is part of my series Mid Carnival of woe
And all your hair undone and all your make up; washed out.
Like those untruths which started out as a joke but the words flowed and it became
a bag full of lies which could not be thrown in a trash can.
Like not knowing where you stand. Do you stand, at all?
Are you falling? Have you fallen? Will you be getting up soon?
Like standing outside a clinic and realising that
you really want the baby but can't keep it.
Like crying yourself to sleep and getting up in the morning
even though it's easier to sleep. And maybe even easier to reach out for those pills.
Like not knowing and all the thinking and wondering
killing you slowly and not being able to stop.
Like drilling holes in an already wounded heart
and somehow accepting the pain.
Like drowning in three feet water, it seems impossible
but it can happen and you don't even think of it.
Like not stopping, like not knowing if you can
and going around in circles looking for answers for questions never asked
Like shedding silent tears because you're mediocre
instead of brilliant; like knowing you have no right to cry.
~Anjee, Nov 2013
This poem is part of my series Mid Carnival of woe
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