2018

2018, You broke me.

All these years, I did cling on;
I had been swimming for my life and then, 2018, you caught me off guard:

After the worst was survived,
Before the next chapter could start,
2018, you brought the stillness before the tsunami
That swept me off my feet and drowned me
And shattered me into millions of pieces that I never believed to be able to glue back together again.

But I tried.
And I failed.
And I got carried some of the way.
And when the only thing that was left of me was atoms, I was split into subatomic particles.

Ears that listened, tongues that talked
Arms that hugged, hands that stroked
Trust that was perceived so absurd
Texts that read ridiculously rubbish rambles about the whole I used to be, not the hole in which I lay.
Tears and time that didn’t heal my wounds
Help that didn’t help  
Drugs that didn’t worked.
Nothing worked... Until it did.

And then, 2018, I didn’t die.
And now, 2018, I’m walking again.
Secretly humbled, outwardly proud.