Again…same ol’ anguish.

Should i bang my head on the wall?
Should i jump off from the terrace?
Should i let all the honeybees sting me?
Howwwwwww?? 

What do i do… to make them understand?
What?
Words are now failing me..
Dunno in which words do i make them understand..
I’m not ready..
I’m just not ready
for all that shit..
Makes me bitter
anguished
and i struggle to control..
Howwwwwww? 

Burying this anguish deep,
I sit silently
after explaining to them again
Again!
I’m not yet ready..
I want to be independent..
coz that’s what is the most imp thing for me right now..
But they repeat the same things,
marriage,
age,
responsibilities,
right time,
won’t get guys,
blah blah..

And sitting there,
I remind myself
‘This is not who I am.’ 
and i remember,
“Never forget where you came from..” 

Taking a deep breath,
i tell them again
that this is what’s important for me
and then,
getting up, I leave..

Can’t take all this drama again!
Don’t wanna get sucked back into arguing..
Can’t control them,
Can’t change them.
Nor can they control me,
nor can they change me.

Closing the door,
i lean back and put on headphones..
Got to let out this anguish,
and only way is
music
and writing…

Garden – by Pearl Jam song.

The direction of the eye,
so misleading..
The defection of the soul,
nauseously quick..

I don’t question
our existence..
I just question
our modern needs..

I will walk…with my hands bound..
I will walk…with my face blood..
I will walk…with my shadow flag..
Into your garden..
Garden of stone…

After all is done
We’re still alone,
I won’t be taken
yet I’ll go…with my hands bound..
I will walk…with my face  blood..
I will walk…with my shadow flag..
Into your garden..
Garden of stone…

I don’t show…
I don’t share…
I don’t need
what you have to give..


I will walk…with my hands bound..
I will walk…with my face blood..
I will walk…with my shadow flag..
Into your garden..
Garden of stone…

 

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