By-Ishita Banerjee
The world keeps editing me
Saying I can’t fit in
It’s like I am wasting the air
In which I am breathing
I am left with nothing so I keep sighing
So many people around me
Still why am I crying?
My existence keep disappearing
My feelings evaporating
No one gives a damn if I am gone
I am always left alone
My life is a curse
With each day it’s getting worse
I know no one is going to stay forever
But I want someone to care
Someone to make me get rid of my fears
I take pills
I know it kills
I cut myself often but that dosen’t hurt
The people around me call me an introvert
Am I so bad?
Is that’s why I am mostly so sad?
I will rather get used to it
Like I am invisible
Until someone thinks I am capable
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This poem has been published in the book 'The Last Flower Of Spring'. Buy the paperback copy on Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/y9sydnxn