Sonal Singh On Sonal's Table
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You settle over me like a silent night that creeps slowly over the city.
You swathe me in reams of abject despondency and melancholy self pity.
Then like the critters of the night, I hear these voices that speak in my head.
They make me doubt myself; say I am not good enough, as I lie in my bed.
Silently you permeate my rational thought, my reason and my sense of logic.
You reduce me to just a hallowed out shell, a debilitation that is tragic.
They say I suffer from depression and that I alone can fight this and win.
But, tell me how I should do so when what I contemplate is a sin?
Yes, I speak about ending it, taking my life that was so preciously given.
You call me a coward but believe me to overcome, I had genuinely striven.
I did try to swim against this tide of negativity in my head.
Maybe my problems will be solved once I am well and truly dead.
But, just when I have concluded that suicide is what I shall attempt,
From the depths of my mind, pragmatism surfaces and does tempt.
It stays my hand; it flays my pessimism and emboldens my flagging will
And just like that I understand how to fight, survive & remain alive still.
Image – Kristina Tripkovic via unsplash
