For some people the body is a temple,
For some people the body is a prison.
Once it's spread you can't escape and it's unstoppable.
Like a cancer it holds on to you, penetrates deep in to each
and every cell of your body,
Takes a place in each and every part of your being.
Like a chronic pain - it can go away, but it can easily come
back and it will always be there,
in the background.
You think: why me? How am I different? Where did I go wrong?
Whose fault is it?
But you know: it's nobody's fault.
Not the parents', not the friends', not the society's.
Nobody can change it,
Nobody can stop it.
It's as if the world's pains and suffers are on your
shoulders.
Being so sensitive, like living without a skin:
Every brush,
Every pat,
Every scratch,
Is taking a huge toll, brings you another inch lower.
And you just keep on sinking,
And you just keep on fighting,
Struggling for air, for sanity,
Maybe even happiness.
And that's all you have left - hoping,
And that's all you have left - giving up on...