That different girl I used to be,
The dead corpse inside of me,
That past lost in the blood,
The moments in my eyes, a flood.
I still go back to those days,
I still tread in the darks of that place,
I still see a glint of faint light,
But never see it enough, to see it right.
I run back to the now,
I still feel scared and how,
Chilled bones break with a dull thud,
The dark winters still freeze my blood.
And I come running, stumbling back, defeated.
By the memories in my lungs, I’m suffocated.
By the pain of being fearful again,
By the pain of being alone, and vain.
I still sit for long arduous hours,
Figuring out the striking metaphors,
I still weep the debacles of my past,
Without regretting the shadows they cast,
But truths such as these never leave you,
The person you were might’ve been dead, but it’s true
The ghost of the slaughtered warrior lives inside you,
The warrior you never get weary of, even if you pretend you do!
PS: I found this poem on my computer and incidentally, it was written exactly a year back. Had to make some edits, but then here we are!! Hope you enjoyed it.