I still write

On my bad days I still write

On my bad days I still write

perhaps you might think that this is such a terrible idea

but I will tell you this

It has always been me and the blank paper

Because if I sit quietly by myself, that’s when I interact with my demons

They are cosy in my lungs so for every breath that comes out

its just poison to those around me

Sometimes I wonder why and how they keep up with me

But then it is known that to get a rainbow

you have to keep up with rain and sometimes storms

On my bad days I write

because I realise for me to have good memories I have to be part of it

so bitterness can’t be part of my story

 friends write to their boyfriend, I am writing to penpals who i will never meet

because heroes are just in movies and in real world being kind and sweet equals having powers

and wonder woman has cinders on her and a big smile

Lessons are learned on worse days, but tell me what do you learn from a relative that insults you

A friend that betrays you just to be good to your lover

An employer that does not want to recognise your work just because he can’t stand the colour of your skin

A person that’s supposed to take care of you ends up taking advantage of you

A society that does not understand what depression looks like, or where it’s just easy for them to blame you and call you names

On my bad days I still write

some day I write about my dear husband 

He is in for better or worse or rather a gift for all the fucked up days I will have

Yes it’s the hardship that broke me apart

But the love that surrounds me holds me together. After all life is not a fairy tale 

after all pain is just temporary, writing means I have not given up


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