You have always been treated as a myth yet I can feel you on me sucking it all slowly. I can’t seem to get your sticky claws away, for you find a way to grab me again. You feel like an infinite pool and I seem to drown in it, I keep struggling for air yet you grab my feet, pulling me down with you.
Who are you? People ask. Thinking that I have been faking your presence since the day I met your shadow. Nobody believes your name; nobody claims to know you; making me a joke. They say I just have to feel happy and you will vanish. I have tried a million times but they forgot how cunning you are, making it harder for me to curl up my lips anymore.
I have cried for help, several times inside a closed room, shrieking as loud as I can. Asking for help to free me of our chains that have now started rusting me. I remain as a toy for your amusement, bending and turning at your wish. The marks on my skin are the witness to your abuse, I can’t seem to stop myself when all you whisper is to hate myself. I look in the mirror and wish to rip of every layer of skin till I see the bones. Blaming myself for all the wrong that happens around me. At times when no one’s around I throw myself on the bed and lay there still, listening to a song and suddenly wanting to cry for the lyrics seem too painful to hear.
You have turned my life in such a direction where I can’t seem to stop running. I have a desire to leave everything, and escape anywhere just not into the reality. I wish to spend more time with friends and not to go and follow your stupid orders. It’s a battle that I fight every day. Whenever you win, I feel terrified for myself; I feel scared of myself. No matter how hard I try it’s your instruction that I end up following.
Will you ever ask me to cease to exist? I always try to avoid this trick questions. It horrifies me to even consider the possibility of the answer. I wish to exist, even if the worlds collapses on me. How can I give up on my dream to grow old and show off how experienced I am in front of my grandchildren. You have always had an eye to my golden dream making it feel like a mirage. The nights when I fall on your arms you seem to squeeze the life out of my existence. Marking your territory with blue marks. Life isn’t that bad when you don’t control how I feel. Life feels full, it feels worth of all the blackness around me for when you decide to go on a vacation I can see the light while I stumble in the woods. But when you creep on and blindfold me I try to remember the golden streak of sunlight, but all I do is be numb.
I wonder why you remain invisible in front of the world. I wonder if they’ll ever sense your presence and give me an antidote for your virus. I know I won’t give up but how long I’ll last is an another trick question. I’ll continue to laugh out loud, to be as active as I can and fight you out. I can’t let you shred me like a paper. I will fight till the golden light hits the ground for I can’t get lost into world where nothing seems to be alive. You have always won the petty fights bruising me with your cigars, but the final game remains where I’ll either be reduced to ashes or the phoenix will soar up high from the blazing fire.
A victim to your madness.