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Poem

WHAT AM I

September 12, 2017 • Rubina Mulchandani • Female • 24 • Gurgaon

I am nowhere. I am the emptiness that encloses the screeching silence.
I am a gap waiting to be filled. I am a void, a vacuum, shadowed by nothingness.
My name drowns in the worldly noise that surrounds me. My identity is undergoing constant metamorphosis.

It changes at a speed that is beyond my reach. I am the pause that follows a question. I am the blank that precedes an answer. I am like a semi colon, waiting for this universe to complete my unfinished sentence.

I am neither here nor there, neither mine nor anybody else’s. I am the curiosity in the eyes of people barging into my personal space. I am the uncertainty that makes my gut cringe. I am the inner fold of a tunnel that doesn’t know where it leads to. I am like the waiting river, yearning to become one with the sea.

I am the hollow of a peephole. I am the unending journey of a wanderer, the strangled dreams trying to catch their breath. I am the consequence of my choices, more wrong than right. I am the challenging responsibility of my complex decisions. In this world of pretension, I am the struggle of being real.

I am the protest against the society, the black mark of rebellion. I am the raw interior underneath a flashy exterior. I am like the edges of aimlessly flowing hair. I am but a moment, so crucial yet so transient. I am the restlessness that pulls me down. I am the darkness that accompanies the light. I am the hindrance in my own path. I am the test of my actions, the face of my mistakes. I am what crumbles and falls, in the hope of being put together. I am the pieces of an unsolved puzzle, mysterious and daunting.

I am fear and despair. I am the calm, but only the one that enrages a storm. I am the quiet and the hush. I am the blur that separates solitude from loneliness. I am the blinking cursor, brimming with words yet to be spilled. I am a new page, untouched, maybe unnecessary. I am the last drop of ink, significant for a second and a waste the next. I am the long queue, with ill-defined beginnings and endings. I am the threshold, pressurized from all sides, waiting to break free. I am a conflict, far from resolution.

I am an unexplored terrain, adventurous and forbidden. I am the unsure smile and the fading pain. I am the glistening eyes of someone who dared. I am like the flickering bulb, forced to light up but heading towards a blackout. I am but a string of full stops….

But, I still am. I exist. I survive. And sometimes, this is all that matters. Sometimes, just being is all that is needed. I am my own meaning, my own destiny. I am searching for my soul and in this quest, someday I will find myself.

TAGS #acceptance #depression #mentalhealth #poetry #selfawareness #talking #therapy healing