It’s not prudent to tell people how you feel. While for you it’s honesty, for someone it’s a weapon to exploit.
I do not mean here that it happens every time, but yes, it happens.
We’ve all been through it in some way or the other.
I lie about my emotions now, even to myself. The power of convincing myself about something I do not believe in has helped me in living a lie. A comfortable lie for my mental well-being.
I am not mentally well, I have issues. I am more morbid and pessimistic than the next person.
And I never see that the glass is half full. And that is okay.
It is okay if I am the way I am. I do not need anyone to make me feel guilty about it or make me apologise for something I cannot be.
I have had a difficult life and I am not embarassed by being acceptable of the misery which made me what I am today.
Some days, the Sun never sets and the day continues into another hour and another
Those days I live in oblivion, hoping that the second blink could be the last and I would drift off to sleep
Could cut off the buzz, the unease, the brutality within my own
Some days, the Sun never rises and I am engulfed in the darkness
Moon, I have never seen the goddess grace me with her silvery light
Butterflies come and go, and I stay still, watching.
I turn to the Sun and it’s rays and hope never to wither away