Broken

"The broken clock is a comfort
It helps me sleep tonight
May be it can stop tomorrow
From stealing all my time
And I am here still waiting
I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best
Like you've already figured out"

I wake up to a rainy morning tired with thoughts. It's now so many nights since I've had a good sleep, a happy dream. I am tired pretending to be happy. Pretending that my life is exciting. It's not. It's burdened with a thousand regrets and a million teardrops.It's burdened with seven years of guilt, and three years of loss. Six months of deception. And a life long of indecisiveness.

There's no love.Somehow somewhere it's lost. Gone. Burnt to ashes.Or may be it never existed in the first place. Just shackles that chains me, and force me into the monotony.Into the habit. I am tired of following rules, of being told. Just opposite to what my heart desires to hear.I don't know why, seems like the earth is turning the other way around. That night I prayed to be away. Away to somewhere far and start afresh. And everything worked out. But those bonds and chains held me back. I am being so selfish! I thought!

But I wish I was. Why do I listen, and why do I obey? To be told every time about my incapability. Yes, I knew I could manage. Yes, I knew I could do well. But you might pretend that you would let me do what I want eighty percent of the time, and mix with it some ounce of coldness and add twenty percent to let me know you won't be happy with this.I am obliged or chained, or something. I don't know what. I wish I could turn back, I wish I hadn't let this happen. But it has, and I have let it.

When I was young, I had a dream. I saw myself running free. Prisons, that's all I have, all my life..whether from my mother when I was young, whether it's from you.And all I wanted was to be strong enough to decide. But I worried too much. About you, about everybody. Instead of growing up,being independence all the choices of my life has become entangled with yours.