What do you do
once you’ve done everything
to apologize?
Where do you go
when the last place you feel safe
is compromised?
How do you escape
a closed, dark room
with no hint of a door?
Whom do you trust
when the one you depended on
is no more?
How do you feel
when the reality you live in,
isn’t real?
What remains
when the knife that cuts you
is made of cold and cruel steel?
What do you have
when all that’s left are
blood, sweat and tears?
How do you face
that fear you’ve been running from
all these years?
How do you speak
when the words are gone
and you have nothing to say?
What do you do,
when the light at the end of the tunnel
seems to be fading away?
How do you answer
so many questions
when you don’t have a clue?
When you’re helpless,
beyond a smidgen of hope,
what do you do?
Mihir Kamat 