I want to lock away my heart,
and discard the noise of my restless thoughts.
The thoughts that whisper truth,
yet tremble beneath the weakness of this faint heart.
I want to learn the souls around me,
trace the stories written in their eyes,
but each time I reach out,
their silence turns into a blade,
and the cut it leaves bleeds deeper than I can mend.
I try to rise,
to stitch myself together with hope,
but my hands shake,
and the threads break before they hold.
No matter how much I reach for light,
I fall back into the shadows I once tried to escape.
Now, I wander through a fog of my own making,
a place where my reflection hides from me.
I search for myself in the mirrors of others,
yet all I see is a stranger wearing my skin.
Perhaps I buried myself long ago,
inside this unfair loop,
where days repeat like a broken record,
and nights echo louder than my breath.
Here I stand,
alive in body,
but dead in spirit,
drifting endlessly in this living hell.
Sonam Phuntsho (D1CSN)
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