Breaking The Image That Peers
From Silver Glass
I just want to close my eyes and imagine myself
breaking all barriers, the bubble of sorrow and pain that encases me. Twisted
into every fabric of my frail existence lie weavings of memory, encounters that
have both scarred and shaped my character. I would not be who I am today if it
were not for the errors in judgment and utmost losses I have endured, however,
They that have also brought me to darkly encased memories and depressed
emotions. Each memory retrieved rises like bile to my throat, each more vivid
than the first. My heart unwillingly becomes trapped in an abyss of sadness and
grief, and I only grow more contradictory of myself, wanting even more to break
free and start over, while also desiring the security and comforts of the life
I already live when measuring it's small joys. Blackness encases my heart, and
attempts to smother the pain away, but ill thoughts arise nevertheless. Bitter
thoughts of the world I live in, followed by wistful dreams of lives different
from my own that I might hope to live in. I once had the eyes of a child of
innocence, but no more. Innocence comes
as that of virginity, hope, joy, simplicity, etc. There are many ways to break or steal innocence. My innocence
resided in my surroundings, my hope, my family, my home, and my joy. In each of
these I have been broken, and with each my heart has snapped and my eyelet
windows have shown less joy, less innocence. The tears that fall down my face
sting with anger, bitterness, sadness, and finally ...I feel lost… Just plainly
BLANK. As if no longer I was a part of this place, these
people, this identity, this emptiness.
