Days pass by
wrapping the memories and grief
under the thin satin sleeves.
Hiding from the world,
Concealing the wounds, the cut,
the face, the tears-
I cannot swim no more.
I’m drowning every other second,
Making sure I break down
and make no noise,
With no eyes witnessing.
1,2,3 to 10,20,30-
The days wear a three-figure-number.
Calendar says it’s the 100th day
of breathing in torment
And out the sanity.
Wish I could tell you I’m okay.
Praying you never get to see
the mess I’ve turned into.
Selfishly living, breathing
and sometimes even smiling
In a world that doesn’t have you.
All my life,
Till 100 days ago,
I kept telling Him
“Never keep me in a world without her.”
100 days later, sitting in the dark,
I realise, He showed his power
And my lack of it.
Powerless to protest
or even to be mad.
I’m only struck by the force of grief.
That’s all I can ever be.
Credit: Kind of Blue, Musubu Hagi
