and here I am, on another day as wretched as the last.
it wasn't so long ago that I thought I escaped my past.
but here I am, another empty bottle, another unspoken song. here I am still sitting alone and cold, I swear I don't belong.
and here I am, another tear-streaked cheek and half chocked sob. it wasn't so long ago that being sad was my job.
a lifestyle I didn't ask for, it's not picture perfect or sought after. it's dull, and dark, and it lacks in laughter.
but what is lacks in, it makes up in darkness. it's cold and damp, and it'll make your mind a mess.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
i am not real , but you were
कविताa collection of thoughts i refused to let slip away with the wind
