Real but not perfect


There I lie down, gazing at the ceiling,
doubting myself,
cringing deep within the pain & failure time has caused,
counting my pulses to break free from the torment,
shielding from the scorn towards life.
Skirmishing to sustain, tussling to see the light on the other side,
just another day, just another night,
screamed the fortitude within,
only for the qualm to ante-up the very next moment.
“I can’t think straight”, declared the mind,
“It hurts”, voiced the heart,
“We are tired”, blared the heart & mind in unison
It’s exhausting that every breath I take is burdened with tangled thoughts,
every attempt to make things better turns fraught.
Should I give up?
Should I put an end to the whole discord?
Will then everything be alright? asked the failed clout.
As the fight within grew tougher,
the tenacity to quash negativity became firmer.
As I crawl through each day to reconcile with my happiness,
my credulity to beat the beast within revived.
I know it isn’t going to be easy,
I know I don’t feel the warmth of a sound mind yet,
I know I don’t feel the shelter of a calm heart yet,
Nevertheless,
there’s a shining hope within that it’s going to be okay.
I am not alone,
I am good enough,
I am strong enough,
I am brave enough,
I am stubborn enough to not give up, not yet,
I can wait one more day, one more night,
start all over again, and again
until I can finally feel at ease to be real and not perfect.

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