When was the last time you were happy?
Well, I don’t remember. Was it a month ago? I was living my happy moment.
Or, maybe yesterday while thinking about the unfulfilled dream;
Or, was it today while I was taking a shower thinking everything will get better in my way?
I don’t know, I don’t know
But, do you know the last time you felt proud of yourself?
I-I- was last proud of me two weeks back;
Or maybe today when I stopped crying.
It was a relief. I don’t like to cry at all. It makes me feel weak.
How often do you cry? Can you express your sorrows?
Oh, I cry a lot; but, h-h-he does that to himself, I hate it when he does that.
It causes me more pain but he just doesn’t understand.
And for me, my eyes transfuse red from the Sun when it
Rises up in the contemptuous morning.
The sky kills one of its clouds in shame and cries.
When anything minute breaks its cage—I cry.
What triggers me—I don’t know, I don’t know.
You’re the therapist; You must know.
Am I getting sick? Am I ill?
Why aren’t you talking?
I bet you weren’t listening.
Keep your pen and paper right here with your stupid questions and speak up.
We don’t have the entire day to us;
They’ll soon come to take me behind the bars.
Speak! We don’t have the entire time.
Author’s Profile: Atreyee Bandyopadhyay is a student from Kolkata. She likes to write because it helps her to calm down. She uses poetry to release a stream of her emotions.