No one talks about suicide, no one talks about death,
No one talks about the staunch sadness lingering at the back of our heads.
No one talks about the pain that our tear ducts bear at night
Atleast can we talk about the mere loss of will to just try and fight?
Maybe we could , maybe we should..
Maybe we would if only we could be understood.
For what we are seems exaggerated at times.
Those looks and judgements of others brand our thoughts as crimes.
Maybe we should , maybe we could…
With a bit of kindness, voluntary time and an open mind,
Maybe .. just maybe we could be understood.
Maybe you could help us reveal what we so fiercely hide.
We are not abnormal or unusual or mentally sick.
Neither is it a choice to stay this way, do we consciously pick .
We do not need help “first”, as people say,
It’s the acceptance of just as we are do we so earnestly crave.
Even as we look at the stars waiting to be one with them..
Do we secretly hope that this belittling sadness stays within this realm.
Even people like us, deep down, actually do want to let go,
But with this unknown suffocating heaviness, we cannot go on anymore.
Hi there! If u like my poem ,please do give me a like or a comment .. it really helps me ❤️ 😊