How much are you holding up inside?
One on top of the other, you’re just stacking up things inside you. Making a big pile until it makes a tower too high to stand tall and then it falls.
Just like you, it falls. It breaks, gets hard to build it again, no? Just like you.
You break promises made to yourself. You remind yourself to stay strong and wise. You think that the tattoos that you’ve inked on your skin will help but to no avail, they too fail.
You feel like all emotions from the box that Pandora had opened have covered you from head to toe; from flesh to bones.
You count seconds to minutes to hours to days to months to years. And with that, you count your breaths too.
You try to catch a bird and it flies away.
You drag a cart up the hill on your own only to find that the road has a dead end.
You take those leaps of faith again and again but every time you leap, you end up falling into the chasm.
You come out of the shadows in which you’ve been hiding since long but fail to absorb sunlight because the sun has set already.
You run. You don’t quit but you run. From here, to there and everywhere. You run. You run from chaos to find peace. You run from dark to find light. You run from cold to find warmth. You run from bad to find good.
You run from yourself to find yourself.
All of this while your insides sing along with the whole world to ask you,