The wish

Sometimes you wish things were easier,

But mere wishes are too feeble a weapon to achieve anything,

Blow after blow break you down,

Even though you see them all coming,

You wish you were better prepared,

You wish you didn’t hate every tiny cell of the person you are,

You wish you didn’t hate the person you are becoming,

You wish the blows break you completely and you remould yourself into something better.

Seeing others around you achieve things you wish for,

You wonder what you lack.

Correction. You know exactly what you lack.

However you also know that no amount of effort you put in would make up for that,

You wonder when things will be better,

And shudder at the possibility that it may never be better,

Still, you wake your broken body up every morning,

With the help of the tiniest flicker of hope, burning on the innermost edge of the wick,

You wonder if there is light coming from the end of the deep, dark, endless tunnel or it is just a train coming to put you out of your misery.

At this point, you wish it is a train.

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