Holding back

Caught me by my wrist,

held it tight,

a halt from climbing up those stairs,

that felt like eternity.

Watched me stand and stare,

as everyone walked ahead of me,

looking at me pitifully,

and then snickering later on.

One day, I stood up,

fought for myself, and you let go,

but it was too late,

cause everyone was way ahead,

and so I ran at a pace,

gasping while trying to hold on,

hoping I’d make it,

but I never did.

I was never capable of catching up,

although I ran as fast as I could.

Skipped a few steps until I was ten steps away from them,

but with every step I took towards them,

they took a step away from me,

as they drifted closer to their destination,

I was still a million miles away.

As I skipped steps,

I lost my breath,

scarred myself along,

but I never got there in time.

They were always ahead of me,

they always will be.

And my insecurities grew deeper

as I realised I’d never catch up.

An Amateur writer who's in love with anything that involves escaping reality. A daydreamer and a Quora addict when it's day, and an eccedentesiast when it's dark.

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