Threat

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It’s a vicious cycle. This endless cycle of disappointment.

You say words I never expected you to, words that sting like a mother. Then I defy you in those open acts of rebellion that are the shining feature of my personality. Stubborn. Irrational. Self-destructive.

It makes you glare at me, my defiance. I can feel the heat of your anger rolling off your skin. Your compulsive need to tame me making your hands itch. I can see your fingers twitching. I can feel the red spots in your vision.

And that is when your hand rises. The end of the power struggle. Your victory over me. Brute strength always wins this battle. Especially when I am right.

You are in control. And you leave no opportunity to remind me of that.

But that is not where the story ends. Because the wounds you inflict on me are the signs of your real failure. Your failure as a man. They are the evidence of how wrong you are.

One day, I shall parade them. One day, when you’ve ruined me enough for nakedness to not bother me anymore, I will parade them. One day, you’ll feel my shame. One day, you’ll see disappointment and hate in their eyes too, like I saw in yours.

My bruises might be hidden for now, protecting you awhile, but one day, the bloody gashes inside my head will give me the ink to write out your doom.

 

 

Image Credit: https://agnes-cecile.deviantart.com/art/are-scars-on-body-217843735

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Worm

 

It slithers

Inside my brain –

Creeping around,

Inside out,

Making it’s way

Between all

The dead,

All the decay.

It crawls

Through the labyrinth,

Suckling on

The dirt,

Feasting on all

The grime,

The dust

Of my sins.

It slinks

Amongst the ruins,

Trailing around

My pain,

Goading me on,

Mocking me

For my filthy,

Uncouth offence.

~Diksha

The Devil’s Plaything

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Breathless, I strain

Against the pull of the puppet string –

Trapped, encaged

In the confines of the circus ring.

Like a demonic sadist,

You torture me like a mere plaything.

From one crazy height

To another of insanity you swing.

Flirting with madness,

You revel in your lunatic fling;

Forcing me on the tightrope,

You laugh at how I struggle to cling.

You pull at me harder

Just to relish in how my screams sing,

For I am your puppet

And you, insanity’s best circus king.

~Diksha

 

Image source: https://in.pinterest.com/pin/485262928576155289/

A Long Day

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Like clockwork,

I wake at four each night

And lay there, gasping,

Waiting

For that first ray of sunlight.

 

Tired, fatigued,

I slowly rise

To look in the mirror

And tell myself,

It’s going to be all right.

 

I labour through

Another day;

Try harder

And harder still,

Determined, obstinate,

Full of spite,

Refusing to give up

Without a fight.

 

As the evening

Grows darker

And my limbs

Grow weaker

And my heart drowns again

Under waves of fright,

The chances

Grow slimmer

Of even a brief respite.

 

For the day is drawing

To another close

And the moon is rising

To another height

And my hopes of escaping

The darkness in my soul

Are slowly becoming

More and more slight.

 

Now, once again,

I must return to my bed;

Now, once again,

I must face my nightmares;

Now, once again,

I must hope that I win

And be freed

From this eternal plight.

~Diksha