What's the point of coming out of it alive,
When breathing in itself is an everyday strive;
In an attempt to end this suffering and the pain,
I took a jab at the pulsating vein.
The knife turned out to be just like the humans,
Mocking at me after looking at the ruins,
Another failure was added to the list,
With signs of defeat bleeding through the wrist.
Indecisiveness it was or was it the lack of courage,
That I only had the strength to create a stirrage,
I still don't know whether it was a boon or a bane,
I still can't see the losses from the gains.
There are nights that turn into mornings,
Filled with endless sobs and growlings,
There are still days when I question my existence,
The will to live peeking from a distance.
Never had the heart to hurt someone,
I guess that's what left the task undone,
I know that I need to live,
But I don't have anything more to give;
In search of a reason to make it worthwhile,
Looking for reasons that can make me smile,
Struggling to find my missing parts,
Cleaning the wounds of the devil's darts!!
-By Kritika Rai (guest blogger)
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