Hoshika Agarwal

Part A
The four walls were bleeding ,
Voices from inside the pillow were pleading,
The bed sheets were full of blood ,
The window pane heavily scud ,
The diary pages tearing apart ,
The lights breaking like my heart,
The ceiling had a thunderstorm,
The tables and chairs, the hairbrush and frames attacking in a swarm ,
The fan was yelling ,
It felt like , something they were telling .
The night was settling in ,
There were monsters in the bin ,
The bean bag punching me hard in my face ,
My legs were being tied with my own shoe lace ,
The toothbrush choking me ,
The soap and the shampoo made me unclearly see ,
The shower had a flood ,
Everywhere there was blood .
Part B
But I was breathing ,
In the need of the hour , that was the only important thing ,
I lay there thinking of the horrendous last night ,
And for how long I must fight ,
It shook me when I accepted what I already had known ,
When I decide to dig in what I had long ago sown ,
The hidden truths within those four walls ,
Those harsh realities and brawls ,
I began with turning the pages from my diary ,
That’s when began my woes and worry ,
Every thing had a story to tell ,
And I wanted to get myself out of this four-walled hell.
I wanted to discover and solve the mystery ,
Uncover the secrets , to find the history,
Of who is doing this to me ?
Or was it somebody close that I couldn’t see ?
Part C
I know that blood on the wall,
I hit my head to it on my every down fall,
Those that covered the sheets were my cuts bleeding,
It was my begging and pleading ,
Every night when I lay on my pillow ,
The tears it absorbed and filled my heart that was hollow ,
Every time I stood by the window pane,
It was me who was in pain ,
It was my thoughts that scudded me across my head ,
A hope for someone’s return , always landed me in the bed ,
The endless stories of broken friendships,
And never-will-have-an-happy-ending relationships,
Flooded the diary pages ,
I never revealed my feelings in ages ,
It wasn’t those pages tearing apart,
Instead it was my heart.
The lights were not breaking ,
It was the darkness inside me awakening,
The Feelings , the thoughts , the broken pieces , the pain all together stormed ,
It wasn’t the ceiling, my head had a thunderstorm ,
There were no monsters , I was attacking me ,
It was me ,
That I couldn’t see .
There were voices inside of me crying so loud ,
That I heard the fan yell and shout.
The shower was flooded with deeper darker thoughts ,
The shampoo was poison, and every droplet of water a gun shot ,
I stuck myself to the wrong people ,
Placed my foot on the wrong path,
Stayed for the wrongs ones ,
It was me ,
That I couldn’t see ,
Not the shoe laces that tied me,
It was me ,
That I couldn’t see .
Part D
It’s not imaginary ,
But it’s quite scary ,
How these things were attacking ,
And those thoughts that I was stacking ,
When I couldn’t let go off anything ,
Not those feelings , not that sense of belonging ,
My own thoughts were consuming me ,
Every second , every minute , every hour , every day , every year just flee,
It was me ,
That I couldn’t see .
To make things right,
And my darker self bright ,
I should fight ,
Each and every day and night .
But I needed the light to awaken them ,
The good demons , and to the bad demons completely condemn .
I needed the light to believe in myself ,
With stories of self love, stack up my hearts shelves ,
That light which shined so bright,
Will help me reach the heights.
The light to be alive again ,
Not just exist, but to live again .
The light already exists,
I couldn’t see but my inner self to the outer self assist,
And that light was me,
that I couldn’t see .

Leave a comment

Please note, comments must be approved before they are published