On The Verge Of It

Do you remember the time when you used to plunge yourself in the air and would be caught by someone? The time when whatever you did, hadn't contained the spike of fear? When you grovelled for something so bad, that it itself came back to you? 
I've had none the above moments. I try to obliterate ticks, but my own very advent slaps me hard across the face, and towers over me hiding my being in its dark, ruthless shadow. 


You know the times when there's an inner self so pungent that you take a leap of faith right up in the air, trying to touch that omnipresent light, and be lost in its glory? I'm that one soul who's so oblivious to her very own self, that she can't find that ray anywhere. Wherever I go, I face densities of unilluminated souls, I can't even make out the happy ones. I once saw that flickering neon ray. It was different from the rest. It glowed. It seemed familiar to me. It talked to me. It admired me. It never laughed on my misfortunes. It held my hand and swirled me around. It pirouetted around me so that I can see through the darkness within. It searched for my flickering ray too. It saw my light had died.  It shook me up, threw me away, danced to my fears. But couldn't attempt to revive it. Helplessly, it revoked itself of its own ray and gave it to me.I lit up. Happy, exhilarated, content. And when I looked around for it, I couldn't search for it. I feel it near me, but is invisible. It had blended its darkness with those others present. And now I'm on the brink of somewhere I can't define. I feel being held back from falling into another cauldron of darkness. I can't even step back, lest it falls and I lose it. And here I'm walking brink to brink. Holding its hand. Trying to keep it close. The light it revived inside me is flickering, dimming. It feels aloof to not be able to feel the neon-ness of itself. It's dimmed now. I fell into that cauldron. Dark, lonely, claustrophobic. I'm wandering around again. Searching for that ray. Searching for that identical happiness. It's gone. Somewhere I won't be able to fetch it back again. And now I'm grovelling again, begging again, darkening out again.