The Morning I killed Myself


On the day when
You were very, very sad,
You watched thirty seven
Sunsets sitting on a cliff
And all you wanted was time
To cease.

So that you could cringe your head again
Without having anyone to ask why
And you could close your eyes again
To unkill your death
On the very morning you watched
Yourself wash your hands with your blood
Of the very same colour of horizon;

Your head is slippery
Of all the memories you made of glee
Because your head isn’t crawling into
Any of the colours that make you smile.

But now after witnessing a massacre
Of a star, you realized
The whole sky cried into million colours,
And slithered into a zillion pieces,

But you’re still on the cliff
Looking down into the empty space
Thinking of what it’s like to be alive,
Like shredding pieces of universe sew together
To shine out the dark.

And on the day
you were very, very sad,
you discovered you weren’t alone
Underneath the blanket of stars that
You couldn’t see with your naked eyes
Because you were blinded by the one.

And so you let the time switch back
To the morning you washed your hands
In your death,
Until the alarm ring wakes you up
As you open your eyes
Witnessing the birth of a star
With a massacre of zillion stars

And the sky cried in million colours
To build it’s slithered pieces back to one
And while I was sitting over my rolled white sheets
Looking out the window, thousands miles away from you
I realized that in the light of all your ‘Goodbye’,

A small crack in that voice after, translates to ‘Stay’
In some hidden language my heart could only reciprocate.

– Neha Goyal

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