I had a dream, which could've been a nightmare.

I remember the water filling my lungs yet I stilled there

I remember the choking breath and hopelessness

Yet I stood willing, feeling breathless

I remember the teary eyes or were they imaginary?

Since who would cry if I die? My family?

The distant chaos faded away to my liking.

Just as I wanted to not feel anything

The million cuts on my wrists

I call it relief yet people calls it attempts

I don't care what it's called but it brings me calmness

Should I be ashamed? Of solace?

These days I like myself less, alive than departed

I feel empty, cold and worn-out beyond emotions limited

Yet I can't get the courage to step on the sky from the terrace

I know that I will one day

When my body lay cold dripping blood on the tiles

Still clutching a note to explain my unforgivable crime

But I will be happy to leave and so will people

Since time heals everything and people will heal

But my woe doesn't need time, it needs relief

And so like a nightmare, that night will be over

But will I be able to jump? I won't know until it's done for.

— Urja Ghosh
(BookLoverVenue)