Picture credits: Paolo Ræli
Suddenly you feel your soul
Caving in on itself.
It gets hard to breathe;
This life, too difficult to live in.
And nobody knows;
Nobody knows how you suddenly
Lose the will to live;
The urge to exist suddenly scraped away.
And even if they ask you, what will you say?
How do you say,
That if you could cease to exist
At this very moment
You wouldn’t think twice.
That if you had the chance to
Silently vanish into oblivion
Without leaving a trace
You would gladly take it.
You’re just going through the motions
Again, and again, and again.
The wheels slowly turning at snail’s pace.
But nothing ever moves,
You’re stuck in the same place.
As if someone froze your heartbeat
And put it on display.
The walls you’re trapped within,
Rush forward to suffocate you.
While you reach a profound awareness
Of how big this world is.
And you small, so small.
Will you ever find your place?
Will you ever feel larger than life?
You wonder,
Does this misery have any end?
And is the end of this misery
More miserable than the misery itself?
You don’t know.
You’ve never cared about how things end.
You’ve always focused on the start.
But this life is moving too slow,
And time too fast.
You want it to stop.
Not end, just stop.
Sitting on your bed,
Shrouded in darkness you wonder:
What do these strangers see in me
That I don’t see in myself?
What am I missing?
Do they see the bigger picture?
And if they do, can they tell me
What is my part in all of it?
What is my purpose in this life?
Why was I sent here on this Earth at this time?
Why do I breathe, and break,
And breathe, and break
Everyday
Only to fall apart again?
©Shreya Pandey, 2016
Writing this reminded me how therapeutic the art of writing can be.
The Ephemeral Melancholy 