Spiralling

I've censorized versions of myself,

And spiralled down my overthinking,

Creating new thories and analogies,

Of the chapters of the past,

So, much so, that I make myself,

The worst person I could imagine,

But, in reality, I'm not.

I'd only wanted to witness the greens,

The flowing river in the village,

And to be honest,

The mountains called me, right?

Then how come I became this person,

Who censors herself months later,

Sitting in her room,

Spiralling down a spiral that haunts her to a new degree every day.

So, I try to say the kindest of the words to myself,

As thunder strikes the sky,

Looking for a familiar face,

To simply hug and cry.

Though, finding no one but my own self,

Stronger from every spiral spun,

I'm here for me now,

Look what have you all done.