Clouds

       At times like this, you try to remember that the sorrow goes when the morning comes and that the tears stop at the break of dawn. But that's a lie, it doesn't. It goes on and on throughout the day. You think it's gone but it lurks around in the shadows waiting for every little thing to crack open the hell once again. The shadow is so strong and at times, you're able to push it back by sheer will and you smile throughout the day. You hold it together and every one thinks it's all peaches and cream. No one knows the turmoil you're going through, no one understands. You doubt they would so you keep it all bottled inside until the dark of the night comes. When you can be yourself and be free. When you can let it out, with restraint of course. Never too much because you can't let it all out at once. Because when you let it all out at once, it's bound to flood you and everyone would know, would see it in your eyes the next day. So you let it out, bit by bit, piece by piece and the night-morning cycle continues. You face your demons at night and when the morning comes you hide them. These are the hardest times. But you have no choice. The demons start piling because bit by bit on your own you just can't face them all. You still try. Until everything comes crashing. Until you can't hide them anymore. Until they take full possession and control. Until you can't push them and hide them in the daytime. Until you become withdrawn or snap at everything. It's one or the other.The cycle continues. It never ends because you refuse to share, because you're too scared to.
          You're still going to be hopeful that the storm would pass away because life can't be this miserable and unkind. Life can't give you just bitter-leaves without melon. You couldn't afford to think that way because the last time you had, you had wanted to kill yourself. No, commit suicide because that sounds way better. For that singular reason, you choose to come out of the clouds and finally let it all out. You find your joy in screaming at the top of your lungs, in dancing to music at the loudest volume. You find it in all the extremes your melancholy music couldn't do for you. You find that bit of happiness and you cling to it like your life depends on it. It does. You don't let go but at times you falter like the umbrella dancing to a dangerous wind. You still cling onto the happiness and don't let it evade you. You finally gain hold and that which torments you is evanescent now. You don't know how, you don't care how. It doesn't matter. Your grip is so strong now you can never let go. You are in control. The clouds have passed.