Rounded up by misery. Trapped in my depression. Banging on the walls that I built myself. So strong and foundationed, years of turmoil. Blood, sweat and tears. Nothing to be proud of though. After all these years, all I have to show for myself is burnt bridges and rough waters. I'm stranded on an island I call myself. Can I get out of here alive? I need to sustain and survive. Dropping to my knees I see my burdens being lifted off. Could it have been this easy? Although letting go is far from it. Holding on to ceaseless pain, so familiar, mistaken for a companion. Shutting it out seems to be the hardest. Creating a void of panic. My identity seems to be lost now. Without it, I am nothing. Or am I? I find myself trying to find my way out without the seismic shift in reality. Can I find my way back to myself? Solitary confinement wouldn't do. Agonizing trials of loving myself. Each time breaking my heart. Should I just give up? Get lost in thoughts and opinions that pierce through my soul. Perhaps I already have. Undoubtedly, my heart's desire for freedom is annihilated by familiarity. Casting out reason to remove these chains and undress myself of the tribulations and consequences I've worn for too long. It's time to do the laundry, time for a makeover. Time for a seismic shift.
No comments:
Post a Comment