Poet: Pragya
Running from the demons
I am lost in my head
It’s like a maze in here
But there is no way out
Pleading “Help!” In vain I shout
My fears chase me like dementors
All the WHAT IFS and WHAT IF NOTS
Hopeless and breathless
I hide behind the slim walls
That say ” its gonna be okay”
Kidding right? It’s never gonna happen.
Feeling trapped, can barely move
clasped by the chains of anxiety
Trembling, overthinking every word
Why did they laugh? I wasn’t joking
Did I laugh too loud?
Am I a joker or a clown to them?
Why do they ignore me?
Do I even matter?
And if I don’t, why am I still alive?
Questions with no answers
Like gunshots hitting the mental strings
Just thoughts, but deadly enough
To question upon the life of oneself.
The anxiety, the pressure and self doubt
Its cold and dark, inside and out.
And thus this depression silenced
the blooming smiles
the careless talks
the friendly vibes.
Still escaping the Demons of my mind
But, other than that I am fine.
