Mental Hygiene Poem by priyanka choudhury

I have been fighting, fighting in vain
For an ounce of self-respect, a yard of sanity
But these are an elusive pair of twins, they are Siamese perhaps
I keep telling myself that my mental hygiene is my own
But then you casually scatter some seeds in the air
Or perhaps throw them in my direction willfully?
And they grow in my head
Putting out vines left, right and bottom
Till they have formed an indistinguishable mess
How many hours ran into days
Untangling those vines, cutting them away
The top of my sanity, atleast, should be seen from afar
Nice, shining, pruned sanity
I sit talking, singing, arguing
Straighten the vine and parade it before you
Perhaps you can touch its black slimy body
Or unfasten its fangs clutching at my skull
Did you see its gray eyes leering from underneath
Of the edge of its serrated leaves?
It needed neither watering nor the sun,
Like the inexorable green serpent it grew
Till finally it is in my hand now
A thick slimy ugly mess that just doesn’t stop growing
Even as I am talking to you, trying to explain
the throbbing pain in my head;

I know you are smirking now
Probably you are not even listening
But it has seen your smug face
Your undisguised happiness at taking me down
The triumph of your mediocrity
It is coming for you now.