Heavy hearts

 I’m just lost 

I can’t function properly 

I suffer from a low self esteem 

I don’t know how to tell that to people 

They wont believe me anyway 

You are just too pampered or

You are doing it for attention is what they’d say

You want to know why 

Because I portray myself as the happy person 

But happy people also have a baggage

I befriend random people in queues 

Apparently that’s an art

People assume things about me 

But I know I’m not further off 

But when it happens I want to scream from roof tops I’m not who you think I am

But then yesterday on Instagram I saw a reel which said God made those conversations happen because he heard the conversations which you didn’t 

That hit hard

After that I saw posts related to parents and that when I cried 

Cried with the heavy Banglore rain and thunder masking my heart’s rain and thunder 

Masking the pain I felt as I cried it out 

Wiping away the sense of belonging I felt 

Forming wet puddles of self doubt that stained my cheek

Making an ugly out of wet sticky mud that made my heart choked as it remembered the home it left behind 

Overflowing it with remembrance of the times it used to beat carefree 

And away from the fear of being alone 

In that remorseful river, there were pieces of regret of taking what it once had for granted 

If one was to see the river from the surface, they wouldn’t believe the storm brewing on the inside of it