Graduation

Over. Six years have become a sheet of paper in my hands. I’m taking a look behind. Behind the backside of my weeping eyes. I’m sitting in a dark room lonely. No one puts comforting hands on my shoulders. Eyes are darkening. Everything in me has been absorbing light and joy and killing it. This is unlived life sorrow. Dawns gone out, events half-remembered. The ghost-like feelings of losses are creeping down my skin like a swarm of insects. I guess I’m trapped in the past. Those six years are sticked to my face like black disgusting spiders. I’m trying hard to take them off but their clutches are too deeply seated in my skin. And when one of them is looking me in the eye I see myself. Those spiders are me. It’s me who is looking me in the eye. Each year I got more disgusting and horrid, sick of myself and just like one of those things I sought for dark corners to hide myself in. To lock myself in. I have not ever alienated anyone. I have actually alienated only myself. I felt those silent whispers behind my back. She was looking through those whispers’ fog at me. She couldn’t see clearly. You didn't know me. You did not.