In the darkness where my mind resides,
Demons whisper, never quiet, never kind,
They crawl in shadows, feeding on my fears,
Turning whispers into screams no one hears.

Overthinking is a tangled maze,
Thoughts like thorns, sharp and ablaze,
Every turn a deeper void I find,
Each echo louder, pulling at my mind.

Depression dances in the dim lit space,
A heavy weight I cannot trace,
It wraps around me like a cold embrace,
Sinking deeper, leaving no escape.

Demons laugh, they know my pain,
They thrive in the endless rain,
Each drop a memory I can’t erase,
Each tear a battle I can’t face.

But somewhere beyond, a faint light gleams,
A distant hope within my dreams,
Though demons linger, I still try,
For in the darkness, I learn to defy.

I will draw
But there are no colours left to see.
I try to draw
But what is there for me?

I do not walk,
Yet still, I talk.
I try to speak,
But who will hear me when I’m weak?

I cry sometimes
But my face stays dry.
Tears fall inside my eyes,
But who replies?

I try to play,
But I’ve grown too tall
The toys I knew are far too small.
I play with walls
That never play at all.

I live,
But do I live a life?
I craft a lie
But who deserves my lie?

I burn my hands washing dishes at home.
Alone, it is lukewarm, cold at best --
So I will eat cake until I am sick.

A home?
A place where your mornings start with scoldings and nights end with arguments?
A place where you are unloved?
A place where you don’t even know what your siblings feel about you?
A place you are having heavy heartbeats and panics?
A place where you don’t feel like sharing anything?
A place where your existence doesn’t seem worthy?
A place where you can’t even cry peacefully?
A place where no one express what they feel?
Is this place called a home Maa?
Is it? Really?

Honey its been a while but i know you exist between heartbeats — not quite joy not quite grief, just the long inhale before either arrives.
you lived in a house where silence carved the hallways out of not being chosen so i know that you wear sound like an armour,
for when the room goes quiet the ghosts start speaking in full sentances and you are left with no language to bury them.
you answer messages in your head, smile at texts you never send and mourn connections like you've buried them with your own hands — even tho they are still alive
just not with you.
you wage a war between
reach out
and
stay safe.
between
i miss you
and
don't look at me.
you stand still.
mid-sentance
mid-dream
mid-you.




your house is a mess- your head is worse
wondering if this is healing or you are just getting really good at pretending so you bolt the doors
and you don't dare let anyone come in.
your mother used to say that the cruelest is the hour when you must beg the stars to remember your name — you'd then say
that the pain is a fruit, bitten too soon
and yet so sweet, so knowing.
because you know you must remember everything
and overcome it.
for if you don’t overcome it, you will always be the child whose soul never grew, the woman who kept apologizing for needing too little, and loving too much.

Long are overdue the deeds you owe to yourself.

-V

I promised to always love you

Not realizing I doomed myself 

Because I still love you so much

Even when you stopped loving me