Precipice of Ruin

I’ve been collecting disappointments for
longer than I can remember- if this
sadness was a currency, I would be
richer than you can imagine.The thing
is, people like me are thinking about
things too little for other people to
worry about. The thing is, I feel much
heavier than a fragile thing like me
has the right to, the thing is, the glass is
empty and there’s no way to look at it
positively anymore- what am I
suppose to do now? My bank is almost
overflowing with guilt and regret, and
it’s almost pooling at my feet- I am
ankle deep in my own bitterness and
I’m not sure how to step out of it. So
tell me, what do I do if my mind is
in tatters? I feel like atlas, only
I can’t take all the weight- my
shoulders are
popping out of their sockets, my head is
spinning and my little collection of
angry is doing no good, how do I
help myself? How do I make order out
of chaos, method out of madness, and
kindness out of sadness? If I let go
will I be able to survive? Or will
I just fall to my death with only my
disappointment keeping me company?
How do I survive myself and the world
around me without tearing my muscles
apart? Right now, I am a step away
from the precipice of ruin, away
from the edge of the end and honestly
I just want to take that one step and let
go of this all; I want to plummet till
Im not afraid: till I am fully free.

Marching/Breathing

Every day I am slowly being forced
to keep moving. My body is marching
to it’s funeral and I am just along for

the ride- the world doesn’t care about how
you keep up. You simply must. And if your
bones are ground to dust, it is just a side effect

of dealing with yourself every single
day. Does it get better? Will I ever
hear my own heartbeat and smile? Will I ever hear

the future sliding up to my past and
want to laugh? Right now, the world is moving
like lightning, when all I want to do is breathe again.

Right now, the future knocks and I just hide.
Right now, I only want to breathe freely.
Right now, I am stifled by the thought of moving.

Indian Politics/Roads

Indian politics have recently been reminding me of Indian roads. Every five years, a new Prime Minister is chosen- just like how extremely rarely, the Municipal Corporations in slumber wake up and actually re-tar the roads. However, just like how politics get increasingly murkier throughout the five year term, so do roads. As the year goes by and the public waits for their roads to tared, the rains, digging and a myriad of other problems surface, leaving everyone to use paths which are more craters than roads, until someone wades in with a temporary fix. By the time someone decides to actually fix the road (or, by the time the next Prime Minister must be chosen), the road is no longer a road, but a dirt track and the public have long given up on anyone ever creating good roads (or creating corruption free administration). Yes, Indian politics remind me of Indian roads, as the common man’s faith in both functioning well is extremely fragile.