There are seven days in a week. On most days, I am fighting an internal battle that I can’t bear to lose. On other days, I stop fighting. I give up.
Like last
SUNDAY
Bright and Lively
My insecurities and imperfections kicked in
I pushed them into the drawer, padlocked it
I set for the day
And I survived
But
MONDAY came with a twist
Feasted on my fears
Like a fist to my face
Devoured my peace
Her evil grin wrapped on her face
Crushing me in an embrace
Whispering sounds of failure in my ears
LOOK AROUND, YOU DON’T BELONG HERE. TAKE A SEAT, QUIET DOWN, HIDE AWAY, SHUSH, RUN!
But it catches up unannounced
Already defeated, too late!
I have lost my face
So, I beg for a three-day grace
THEN FRIDAY CAME,
It scribbled my failures on the walls
Crippled my desire to revolt
Help! I am drowning in self-despair
My feet come to a halt
I feel the world stare in disgust
YOU ARE NOT ENOUGH
YOU CAN’T AMOUNT TO ANYTHING
GO BACK HOME
On SATURDAY
Anxiety knocks on my door
Shoulder’s high
I wait for what’s to come
Don’t bother
It tells me
All those lies you tell yourself
I hear them too from dusk to dawn
Stay in bed
You will need the rest for another week
And just like that, it won
It takes its trophy home.
