I'm still weak

I'm still weak.

A raised voice still startles me,

Silence in a crowded room still frightens me,

When illness finds me, I still long for my mother

as though I'm an infant again,

still tethered to her by an invisible umbilical cord,

wanting nothing more

than to find my way back.

I wear courage like borrowed clothing,

convincing the world that I've outgrown my fears.

But whenever life strikes again,

I still cry.

I retrace every decision,

search every road for a way home.

Not because I refuse to grow,

but because there is one place

where I never had to pretend to be strong.

I still want to go back to my mother,

if only for a moment,

so that I can feel weak again.

I'm still weak.

I grow weary

walking the same road,

again and again,

day after day,

only to arrive nowhere.

I still wait for my father

to gather me into his arms

as though I'm an infant again,

and carry the weight of the journey

I no longer know how to walk.

Not because I cannot keep going,

but because, for a little while,

I want someone else's strength

to be enough for both of us.

I want my father to walk the path for me,

so that I can feel weak again.

I'm still weak.

Some days,

the weight of becoming someone

is heavier than I can carry.

I still look for my brother

to nudge me forward,

to laugh at my fears,

to tell me, as he always did,

"Come on, we'll figure it out."

For a moment,

I want him to walk beside me,

to carry the part of the burden

I no longer have the strength to lift.

Not because I cannot go on,

but because I miss the certainty

that I was never walking alone.

I still long for my brother's shoulder,

so that I can feel weak again.

Pranav Sankrityayan

Note: Picture is AI generated. New at writing Poetry, used to write couplets in Hindi but trying this. Feedbacks will be appreciated. Thanks for reading in Advance 🫡