It Hurts!

hurts

No, I can’t sustain it anymore. It’s too heavy for me to handle it, to hide it.
why don’t you just get away from me? Why do you want to see me suffer?
Do I not deserve a peaceful life? I don’t understand. How much ever I try to, I can’t, because every time I dig into those unanswered questions, it turns out to be doubly unanswered. My tears have had it enough, I stumble on knees in front of him – the Lord, and squeak, shriek, shout, and scream at him in anguish to ask him just one question straight,” why me? ” and the best part is, I end up biting my teeth and suppress my sore sober, and whimper within getting no reply, fetching no answers.

I dreamed of embracing you since grade five and my dreams grew stronger as I grew older. I was almost there to get you around my nape, but fate warned me not to touch you either. I’m a person that doesn’t have faith in luck but now I stress, Maybe I wasn’t lucky enough to have you. Bad luck hit me hard.
People who didn’t own a single quality to deserve you, have got you. Again, I don’t understand the logic man, damn it.
My dream comes true only in my dreams, Ahh, yes! It’s now a mere nightmare.
They say, unrequited love hurts the most, but I say , unaccomplished dream hurts way more deep.

You, the stethoscope. You, the white coat. You were the one I dreamed of.
I was mad at you, like literally.
Everyday I dressed myself up in the white coat (that I’d , for the purpose of chemistry lab). I spoke to patients who were never there, I wrote a note for them as to how to cure their sufferings. I gave them medicines, holding an empty bottle that was supposed to have capsules inside. Apparently. I checked how healthy their heart was, with my invisible stethoscope, I gave them the hope.
That was absolutely a great pleasure to enact like the one I foresaw in my future, but just after a moment I would realize that there’s a long way to go and I’ve to be working hard. I did work hard, but I didn’t struggle doing it as I was interested in it.
I loved, loved to reach my desire as early as possible but due to two core genuine reasons, I couldn’t make it. (well , those reasons will lead to two long stories, maybe I’ll come to it some other time)
Dreamed of a stethoscope but destiny gave a soldering gun instead.
Whatever maybe the reason, who’ll give a damn about it. Who’ll listen to it?
No-one. Nobody cares but it hurts, it pricks to lend your ears to those sharp tongues that enjoy creating a severe damage. They don’t want to know how it all happened, but all they want is to see you fail, taunt on your back and give a pseudo convalescence in front of you, putting a mask on. But you can’t help it, your reasons carry no cost at all. If you quote those actual reasons for your failure, people would pity you but not really. They would be happy spreading it other way round – like “Arey, that girl wasn’t capable of accomplishing it but she has kept some reasons ready with her” This is what people speak about you to others.
Well, then what’s the use of putting your sorrows before them?
Silence is the best answer, just put a pin in to conversations and leave. That is comforting, at least that’ll prevent you from scratching your scars, anyway they don’t vanish. Wounds heal but scars don’t.

Even today It takes a second thought for me, to go to a doctor.
It hurts, it brings everything back. I’ll run into oblivion having no other choice left. Tears don’t dry up, brain doesn’t stay quiet. After all, we’ve a memory card in our brains that’s embedded. Everything’s imprinted in our grey cells. We can’t seal our rushing thoughts and for me, it flows down through a pen!
Can’t find an alternative, than to suffer , can we?
Well, everyone has their own miseries and by default, each one should taste it. Enjoy it or curse it, but must swallow it.

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