The Other Life

The Other Life

Written about two and a half years ago. Published now. Based on a prompt!


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The anxiety clings like a terminal disease refusing to lighten its heavy load even for a moment.  The eyes droop, and the shoulders slide every time the mind thinks of an uncertain future.

Dreadful, scary pictures feed the fear, reflecting itself in the eyes and in the dead movement of the limbs, slow and floppily, unable and unwilling to carry even its own body weight.

The sadness of the words pampers the soul scampering from its own goodness, seeing dark everywhere even as the sun burns itself brightly during the day.

The silence turns so deafening, the ears rush to close and cover themselves up, refusing to listen to any sane voice, fears reverberating all through repeatedly.

The crowd triggers loneliness, the food disgust, the laughter is traumatic, and the thought of life an untold falsehood; the only yearning if there is one, is for death.

The mind’s floating an invisible lake, half-dead corpses fluttering around, the eyes no longer see the pain, the skin does not feel, and the taste of blood suddenly turns the mind ravenous, it’s as if that’s what it needs.

The morning’s a pain, the day’s a grind, evenings horrible and the night’s an endless lurid refusing to end, the darkness spewing even more darkness, turning everything into a murky lifeless world where none could exist, even live or maybe die.

And I the single inhabitant begin to cry, knowing, none will see and none will listen to these lonely tears about to turn dry.

The eyes could see but the mind wouldn’t believe; this place’s more crowded and I haven’t seen.

Every face’s distressed, I am not the only one, I realize. 

The world of laughter stays empty.

But the land of sadness is growing aplenty!