By Saumya Rawat | Featured Contributor
Even when I needed saving,
I needed to first convince them
that I needed saving
or worse…was worth saving.
That test enough delayed the process.
The last few breaths were wasted proving worth,
Where one could have been held and let continued breathing,
One was still questioned on if it’s real,
Where one could’ve bartered time with moments,
One still bargained for genuine attention.
So I asked myself,
When you know you are a ticking bomb,
When you know you are only a few breaths down the spiral
Is it worth pushing self or others?
I never was a person who would give up on the world
But in the world that I exist
My existence seemed to be lost.
My name rarely uttered
And my soul deepens every day
In an ocean of emotions
Causing cyclic storms
In the hurricane of which only I’m caught.
There are a few good days,
One or two,
That I cling to dearly
To keep going.
To keep the skin from going pale
And the heart from going heavy.
Yet I can’t help but wonder
What If they cease to exist.
Will there be a forever storm in my head then,
I wonder how longer can you survive
that way in a quicksand.
In series of such days
One after the other
When there is no hand to hold
And your cries of help
Go unanswered and cold
Cling on to the last hope
As hard as you can
As long as you can
To be your saving.
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