My Personal Hell

In a room I stand

Dark and lonely it is,

Not a face to sight

Not a thing to collide.


A faint voice I hear

I think mother calls me,

I run, look all around

It’s my imagination that speaks.


The hunger hits me hard

Food on the table draws me near,

I see, I flinch

The Thai food lies there.


Something shines in the corner

I notice it’s a mirror,

Scars all over my face I see

I scream, scream and scream.


Just then I wake up,

The nightmare is over

I perspire, I smile,

My personal hell is over.


Shikha Tandon