I try to fight it all,
Ignore the hideous implicit call,
The sunshine, the flowers, the rainbows and kisses,
Have nothing on me when I ponder the misses.

My face — stoic, wearing gloom inadvertent,
Bears the features of regret and burden.
I gaze upon all with great precision,
to rue about my life’s great omission.

People have always stayed the same.
The rules may change, but never the game.
I observe and I fight,
Yet I fail to see right.

A monopoly on sadness
is a short trip to madness.
That I know, envy is a sin,
but how can I accept the joy they are in?

Life from the outside looking in
Renders all of my faces grim.
Envy, disappointment, resentment and resignation,
Hoards my emotions, punishes my imagination.

“Life and people won’t always hold you back,”
Can you please tell my faces that?
I can no longer wear them well,
When did dread settle on the four, and joy fell?

My faces hope for a better tomorrow,
of a new life, minus the sorrow.
Happier faces may rise if I discard sadness into oblivion,
Maybe I should hope, like my friend from the Caribbean.

Anaamaya Mishra writes to explore the uncharted territories within their mind. They write to express thoughts that can’t be translated into speech.

Featured image: @bentebrienne/Instagram