Standing in the room ,
Facing the mirror
I could see my
Weeping reflection .

The reflection that I saw
Was a reflection of broken
Yet powerful eyes. 

Those black hair ,
Brown pupils
Almond eyes
Everything started blurring.

Hues were circling my vision

My mind started buzzing ,
My body went chaotic

I was spiralling into darkness
Again. 

The sun was hiding behind
The thundered metallic purple
Sky .

It was fading ,
Just like my hope
And ability to carry on .

Somewhere
Within me ,
I knew that I could
Build myself up again.

But I didn't want to
Pick those sharp glassy pieces again .

I didn't want it to
Sting again.

All I wanted was ;
The agony to end .

I felt as if fate and time ,
We're playing a cruel game
On me.

A game ,

That i was not close to winning .

I had become so fragile
That even a slight mishap

Would break my parts ,

Visible lines of colour
Would form .

Lines of defeat ,
I aimed to be water
But ended up being rocks .

I no longer had any clarity

I had no tranquility

I had nothing much left .

Part of me wanted to collapse ,
To fall down further in the
Sea of darkness ,
Defeat .

Part of me wanted to cling on
To the rope of hope .
I wanted to see another day
And so my curiosity and
Fading hope ;
Prevented me from falling
Too deep.

My mind was like a
River trapped in a dam .
It was rushing , but was
Not of much use.

My body ,
On the other hand was just done.

Yet ,
My heart had a tiny string hope left .

A tiny string ,
That I held on to .

The string
Prevented me from falling too deep .

It saved me like a big
Unexpected hand .

And so sometimes when ,
Everything is wrong ,
All you need is a bit of hope
Even if it's dim .

It'll work. 

-Ridhima Joshi

4.9.18

I wrote this poem when I was suffering really bad. I'm still suffering, but better than before. This is just my story. Please vote 🌟 also thank you for 610 reads! Means a lot .