Everything I do is wrong,

At the end of the day I find myself engulfing in ocean of mistakes

Memory haunts me all the time

Remorseful soul wants some respite.

Criticism after criticism defeats my existence

I encounter block after blocks

Mottled by stockpile of pristine wounds

I can’t prove my doubter’s wrong.

When beloved people make my life messy

Recovery is not so easy

Can’t get opportunity to solve the maze

In front of me is haze and haze.

Mourning is a luxury, I can’t afford it

Everybody wants me to stand still in quagmire

When life is full of duties and responsibilities

I squirrel my grieves away for some leisure.

Cover image by Serenity Mitchell on Unsplash