un-poetic

I ​stare at the lizard picking the corner of its mouth. The darkness has shrouded me but I can see crystal clear. The ceiling has lost its colour. The distemper paint is weathering off already. I fall into a rhythm. Switch on the bed lamp. Switch it off. On. Off. On. Off.

You are all alone, you piece of shit. Nobody here to help. This life belongs to you. You have such little time left. Didn’t listen when I told you that you would end up like this. Taste it, maggot. Taste it.

The thing is when you are illuminated you go back to your old ways. How can I tell you that I feel happy and depressed at the same moment? You have to honour and thank your senses for letting you live. Longer than you ever imagined. The bad is more but you feel what possible mistake would you make if you indulge in a little good? 

You can do whatever you see fit with your life. Its your decision to make. As I told you before, its an odyssey in which you can be your own mistress. You just need to have a bit of both patience and faith.

So you’re 17 now. Probably thinking how to go through your finals. Suicide feels a real possibility. You have thought about it numerous times. But  coward that you are. You can’t even empty a bottle of pills in one go. And every time you take out the scalpel from your biology box you feel sheepish. You stop midway between opening a vein and revert. You have no idea whether this would heal you or destroy you completely. Why not give it a try?

You are all alone, you piece of shit. What was your perception of life? All rainbows and flowers?

That’s it then. Sixteen years in this sublime place. I am so grateful for having a few people in my life and who listened to every bit of chit-chat I did. I wish I could tell you about all this. Each and every bit of thought caged in my dull mind. But words fail me. How can I point fingers when I am the one who’s responsible, where I am the one who’s fallen.

Taste it, maggot. You deserve it.



Picture : © The Chronicle