The Voices

By Nishika Tyagi

shh, I whispered

the voices always speak.

My head is exploding

without making a sound

or is it just too loud

for screams to be heard around.

I am hanging from the ceiling

upside down.

Can't feel my feet anymore

yet trying to touch the ground.

Fingers reach for the grass

wanting to clutch it

like the almost drop of hope

of life from it.

But every time my grasp

is like the wide empty flask

waiting to be fulfilled

to be emptied at last.

Turning into a carcass

world will call me modern art,

rip my life apart

to analyse the pain.

Shut up I yell

there go the voices again.

How long I don't know

that I'll be able to

pull myself together

act like I'll get through.

Trembled and frightened?

no! more like a void

I'm shivering and quivering

don't tell me I've been dreaming

all the solution I had to seek

was just awakening.

You'll never know

because you never believe

how real it is

when the heart skips beat.

After I wake up

the ropes that hung me

the marks they leave

like traces of a nightmare

on my skin are weaved.

The ache never goes away

the voices always speak.

I complain about the darkness

so, you turn on the lights

without noticing how

I was squinting my eyes.

It feels so bright

turning me blind

so once again I'm left hanging

with the voices behind.

By Nishika Tyagi