We Are All Mad Here

By Perushka Pillay

“The things you are most afraid to write, write about that.”
- Nayyirah Waheed

These words resonate deeply with Perushka Pillay, the author of We are all mad here, whose love of poetry and literature developed from a very young age.

As the title suggests, this anthology encompasses a range of issues and emotions which echoed in Perushka’s mind as she entered adulthood. She began her journey as a poet in 2014, inscribing her thoughts and feelings into a little journal... Soon it became a means to her self-discovery. The only way in which she was able to face all the challenges life threw at her, was through writing: Pen to paper, bleeding words into ink.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Perushka Pillay
• Release date: Nov 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005898519

Perushka Pillay

'' The things you are most afraid to write, write about that" - Nayyirah Waheed

Book preview

WE ARE ALL MAD HERE

WE ARE ALL MAD HERE

PERUSHKA PILLAY

Copyright © 2021 Perushka Pillay

Published by Perushka Pillay Publishing at Smashwords

First edition 2021

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval system without permission from the copyright holder.

The Author has made every effort to trace and acknowledge sources/resources/individuals. In the event that any images/information have been incorrectly attributed or credited, the Author will be pleased to rectify these omissions at the earliest opportunity.

Published by Perushka Pillay using Reach Publishers’ services,

P O Box 1384, Wandsbeck, South Africa, 3631

Edited by Kit Good for Reach Publishers

Cover designed by Reach Publishers

Website: www.reachpublishers.org

E-mail: [e-mail]

Perushka Pillay

[e-mail]

"To my parents, my pillars of strength, thank you for raising me to be the lady I am today and for teaching me to believe that anything is possible."

Games

Fear is what consumes me,

I feel it churning in my stomach as if it wishes to be set free,

Yet in turn, I am not free.

I worry for the present, my decisions being guided by the past.

A past that still haunts me, clouding my judgment.

I want to give you my all, but will all of me be enough, I ask?

Questions upon questions, doubts upon doubts, overthinking upon overthinking.

Why could I not give a shit, but here I am wallowing in my own self-pity?

I am bare, hopeless and exposed, wanting something more than I can reach in life.

Why am I not happy? I have all that I could have imagined.

Still… something is missing.

Until I am able to find what is missing, I fear I will be a mess (anxiety laden).

Casting my pain and fear upon you.

For forgive me if I do,

for I do not mean to, I am simply lost, consumed by fear,

trying to convince myself that I am okay.

As sleep alludes me, I stare at the clock, watching the hands of time slowly move.

Thinking to myself, how have I come to this state?

Restless, stressed, plagued with self-doubt and worry.

How is it that I am so young, yet riddled with fear and burdened with pain?

I ask God why? Why can’t I just sleep for once?

I ask God to pardon