I feel the weight of world on my shoulders
Holding onto the tiny picture frame by my bedside somehow calms me down
It is as if life has been moving in slow circles and with every winding motion, tightening the pale hands of gloom around me
I do the things that I must and the place my faith in the Lotus Sutra that brings me peace, momentarily as an escape from the world
Every gaze that comes my way, burns away a piece of my flesh and I hastily try fixing my skin again
It’s never beautiful. I’m a mess.
I say things I shouldn’t and feel things I shouldn’t.
Maybe this is it.
I am at a familiar crossroad again. Darkness ahead of me for miles together and nothing to trace my path back to.
I hear the squirrel chirping, an empty swing creaking in the open, the dry russle of leaves and milk hissing in a teapot somewhere.
There’s a conversation I didn’t begin that hangs in the air,a smile I didn’t respond to, a hand I didn’t take, a page I flipped and a few I shouldn’t have.
They say it’s human but I can’t seem to feel my heartbeat or the pulse on my wrist anymore.
anoushkaparija 