Blindly making my way around sharp corners and endless dark hallways.
Grasping and reaching, desperately, for something to hold onto. Anything. Only finding empty air.
Heart pounding. Thumping in a panic fueled adrenaline.
The feelings. Fear. Anger. Angst. Sorrow.
Empty. Always empty.
Don’t give up. You don’t give up. Keep fighting. Keep trying. You have to keep trying.
So much to lose… but was it all in my imagination?
Carefully crafted illusion?
Keep moving. Forward. Always forward.
But there’s the pull. The pull of turning back. Back to the before. To the always.
Crawl back into the fold of grim numbness.
Back to what served this life so well.
Back to the fractured smile, the hollow eyes. The carefully placed laugh.
It would be the easy way.
But now I know. I know she’s there. Buried beneath the years.
I’ve met her. I know she’s there and I don’t think I can abandon her
She. She deserves a voice… she should be seen.
She should be heard. Felt. Forgiven.
I want to allow her.
I want to take off the mask and be free.
I want to shed the cloak I never knew I wore.
What would that actually feel like?
Would I breathe?
Would I take in pure sweet air?
Or would I crumble?
Now that I realize I’ve been living in this guise
I want to rip it off so bad that I feel
Like if I don’t
I won’t be able
For another minute.
I want to be me. Finally.
Will you let me?