And I find my life to be a playground
Where children run with scissors
And find themselves cutting into wounds they thought had been numbed
Why is it that the threads of silk that makeup my heavy jacket,
Carry heavy burdens of darkness and pain
That this cloak of mine had blood dripping from its seams
That it’s overlock, didn’t lock because it wasn’t thick enough
That this life of mine has started to shed
That before even birth,
I was stabbed a few times, in resentment of the pregnancy
That my birth didn’t bring sweet rice and gulab Jamans
Only from my father did my birth bring light
But he too passed a death like no other
That he was stolen from this life in a way that isn’t imaginable
That his death, cracked my heart in places,
Now shards have been left sticking out for years
Unkept, sharp shards,
And soon after
This dark devil has been doing overtime over my soul,
That a spell has been placed so strong
Not even saints can break this curse I have over my own blood
There was a time where my own body rejected its organs
That my mental state was ready to leave this earth then stay
That even when I am good,
My smile is cracked
I laugh and love with my whole soul
But always become broken
This life is a test