The poem i meant to write
As i take my medicinesi wonder how did i reach here
so utterly ill
from years of self neglect
as my body was hijacked
and mind was trapped.
I had assumed again
that once i state my wish to leave
i would be allowed to stand up
and walk
But no,
they have the exits closed,
unless i walk hand in hand
out with you
and for which again i need to pay
unequivocally further costs
or i lay bare open
the chapters i had closed
the things that i had struggled to move past
the accidents garbed as events i am still recovering from
the option i had never intended to exercise.
So they tell me to let it linger
As i brace once again to pay up the costs.
I feel like subverting it all
the one exit- the religion has from this sacrament
the sanyasa
and have the last laugh
at my own cost.
Poetry by Sona
Written on 2026-04-15 at 06:57
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