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



This poem has been published in the book 'The Last Flower Of Spring'. Buy the paperback copy on Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/y9sydnxn

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