Feelings of the Time!

You sleep alone,

Vary of each breath you take,

You look around to see hundreds,

Like you,

Alone and awake,

Scared to fall asleep or stay awake,

You are not alone,

Encumbered by cries and woes,

You want to be alone,

Not looking for cemetery contacts,

You don’t write anymore,

It feels like a luxury,

To see, to feel, to breathe,

Un-encompassing of the multitude of miseries that mutilate you,

You get hundreds of texts,

People who wish were with you,

People with faces you dare not remember,

You open Whatsapp to a million what to dos,

You don’t do anything,

You don’t believe in anything no more,

You lay awake,

With the piercing consciousness,

Of what life is not anymore,

You can not buy yourself flowers,

Or have a meal and eat it,

You worry for those like you,

To not worry about you,

You look around,

You see nothing,

You hydrate to cry,

You look around,

You still see nothing,

The nothing is comforting,

Over cries for help and air,

You breathe and stay awake,

Life goes on,

Has lost all its meaning and calm,

You look into the nothing,

Hoping to dissolve in it,

You lay awake for the nothing doesn’t come to you,

Nothing is now a luxury,

You think about your brother next room,

You worry about him,

You have a list,

Not enough dedicated worry time,

You negotiate,

Isn’t god supposed to take care,

Even in the absence of prayer?

You still pray,

In blood, in breaths, scarcity of beds,

All you can do is pray,

You pray for everyone but you.


Shriya Prasad

An English literature major living in a world where coffee is a magical health supplement, men are half as confused as women, orchids wither only after a month, four months of autumn and carpe diem or a less cliche version of it is the normality. In the end, all the art still matters.

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