Conversations

Fighting for survival.
Maybe I'm fighting for sanity,
The loud noises in the back of my head,
Loud they go.
So I put on the music,
The rhythm has become my home,
My place.

I have been floating.
Round and round in circles.
The same point I began,
Sometimes, I think I don't deserve hope
Maybe it's this thought that death is peace,
And silence.

Life after death
I play with this thought,
My hands flickering.
The flashes run a maze in my head.
Dead, death.

The black and white flashes,
The constant reminder of me-
Myself, my past.

It all comes around at last.
I can't let go,
probably, won't let go
I need a hand.
Or I can fight this on my own,
Few steps,
Few sips,
I'm off the trench.
The taste fades on my lips.

I lay down and I'm back on this trip.
Oh well, this is what we are.
He whispers slowly.
I say, please stop,
Get out of my head.
I need you to leave.

He says back,
I am you, and you are me, haha,
Such a loser.
Look at yourself
Look at the mirror
So broken.....
So lost......

- Khushi Kaul