I Am the Cause of My Own Ruination

more often than not I wake up
 in the nights screaming and crying,
the voice inside my head refuses to stay quiet
and the rope around my neck tightens its grip
 I am gasping for air,
trying hard to see tomorrow’s sun,
trying to tell myself that tomorrow
 will be better, tomorrow I will feel
 whole again – except that I don’t.
 the slashes across my wrist increase,
 I dig my nails into my palms while
I stare at a stranger in the mirror
who stares back at me.
 I hardly recognize her anymore.
her charcoal black eyes hide the black
hole inside them, secrets and
 layers of fabricating the truth
she refuses to let go.
I can’t see the child inside yearning for
 someone to come and ask if
 she was fine, instead I see a
fallen soldier who’s still
determined to not give up.
I look at the woman in the
mirror and hear her hollow
laughter laden with scratches,
I wonder if she finds has forgotten
how to smile or simply perfected
her art of pretensions?
I feel like an intruder in my own space,
I can’t accept this body made up of flesh and bones,
desperately I want to feel alive,
 the feeling of loneliness is gnawing in my chest,
 threatening to give rise to a monster I had once created.
they say I can be saved, they don’t know
I am the cause of my own ruination.
~Akshita Chaudhuri
Kolkata, India

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