First blog post

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// Concealed //

Its scorching out here,but I’m tugging at the end of my jacket sleeves. Fingers intertwining,the anxiety kicking in.Everyone around me flaunting their tanned arms,dancing to the beat like there’s no tomorrow.

Someone tugs at my hand and I snap out of my daze.He pulls me into the crowd and we start dancing. The beat sounds familiar yet I’m too dazed to name this particular song. Showcasing my discomfort with a soft smile,I look everywhere except into his eyes. And then when he takes my wrists in his hands,I feel a pang.I can’t scream out loud,’cause he can’t know.They can’t know.These people near me cant know. The people who are away from me can’t know. No one can know.

I’m literally flashing him a smile to hide the pain and he presumes I’m having a good time.Oh boy,if only he knew. Another girl walks past us and I watch him subtly turn around,pretending to dance. Seizing the moment,I awkwardly wriggle through the crowd and I am comforted to see a lonely spot.

My wrists ache now and I just hope they aren’t bleeding,I’ve run out of excuses for staining my jackets.Quickly scanning the place so no one notices me,I take look at my wrists, they are pale crimson and I sigh just knowing that it’s not bleeding anymore. There are soo many of them,but the fresh ones hurt the most.Its too late,they’re a part of me now.Every issue seems like a death trap and when I’m drowning in this misery,ironically,the blade seems like the only thing I can reach out to.Pain is an acquaintance and the silence seems eternal.Is this my escapade or my journey to hell?Guess I’ll never know.

This is me.This is my story. The story of an artist ruining her own masterpiece.

(In the voice of a self-injuring girl)

~ S.Vybhavashree.

PS : I’ve written back to back prose and poetry on self harming but please do not presume it’s personal.I sincerely appreciate your concern. 😀



An ephemeral calm as dusk befalls,

Staring at ticking clocks in empty halls.

Spiral staircases ushering thoughts further down,

Blood stains on her lacy evening gown.

Eyes dry, now gazing her skin weep,

Happy she pushed it in too deep.

She doesn’t wish to fit in your carousal gala,

Voices in her head louder than the extravaganza.

So blissful in the dark,

The shine of her blade the only spark.


Was it worth what you did to yourself? 


Do you wish to wake up? Not from your nap, but from the deep slumber that your happiness chose to take? Do you ever question yourself as to why you let their petty comments and sneers get to you? Why you stayed up all night just thinking about all their nasty comments,the sound of their scorn filled laughter reverberating in your head? When did you or rather the fighter in you,choose to fall down that fast?That little girl who always fought for the things she loved? Why has she stopped fighting? Did she stop loving herself?

Everything and everyone change and so will you.Let out all the pain you’ve been numbing since aeon,discover the little things that make you happy,hold on to them tightly and let that little girl smile wider than ever.Let the vibes you spread shun their negativity and the magic you make shine through the dark tunnels of their minds.Let them stay amazed by your happiness despite all odds.The best thing you can do is to let the fighter in you roar louder than their insignificant voices.


                                                                                                                  ∼ S.Vybhavashree 

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