It’s too quiet,
I scream for help,
No one could ever listen,
My Soul isn’t the same as before,
It has given up already,
Dragging a ton of responsibilities since 9 years,
It can no more feel the warmth or happiness,
Thousands of questions,
What is takes to give up on oneself?
I barely want to wake up each morning,
No, it’s not the responsibility, it’s just “the illness”,
I woke up each morning with a task list,
And have been completing it since a long time,
The meaning of life,
For me happiness is dead,
I just find adrenaline rush in completing tasks now,
Do I need a break? Or Do I need a disconnect?
Few suspect it being an outcome of loneliness,
Few blame my workaholic behavior,
Few accept that its bag full of responsibilities at a young age,
What’s a human without any interest or emotions?
Is it too late to cry?
Or should I just absorb everything like always?
Running was never an option.
Giving up isn’t anyway,
But what’ve I achieved at the cost of mental peace,
Filling in Dad’s shoes. I’ve probably realized that his shoes were too small to fit my size,
Probably he wasn’t alone in all the fights like I am.
It’s just a journey isn’t it?