Broken Wings




They told me
That depression hits you
In the dark hours of night
During the ticking of clock,
And hooting of owls;
But it hits me
When I’m smiling ear to ear,
Reminding me,
That happiness ain’t for me.
I remember
The first accident that I had,
When my heart stopped pumping blood in my veins;
My throat got choked,
And it was getting harder for me to breathe.




Oh, the dumb me couldn’t realize
That this is how anxiety visits you;
It knocks the air out of your lungs,
And punches you
Hard;
Right in the stomach.
Depression breaks you,
Twists you,
Until you are gasping for breath;
But darling, remember,
Broken crayons still color;
And no matter what hits me,
No matter what breaks me,
I’ll still fly
And I’ll fly high with my broken wings.

 

~Dishita Kaushik, edited by The Anonymous Writer Team.



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