In the midst of my refusal to pretend, I see myself as a
shadow -
A poor reflection
of another life.
Now tell
me how I am supposed to move forward?
Weak,
broken, abused, depressed, lost…
…
Every pain
has its purpose – it forges us into something strong enough to face yet another
storm.
Every time
we got out broken from another battle - we train to win the raging war inside
our minds.
Every torture
we faced reshapes us into someone new – we are like rushing water, ready to
flood what was left, ready to sink beneath it.
Every thought
that brings us down should be destroyed like the memories that hold us back.
Every day
we feel lost is a new opportunity to choose a different path, to uncover
something new.
…
Yet every
path divides before me, even though I thought that I had figured it out.
Yet every
question still remains unanswered.
I am
tired of asking.
Yet every
step I take feels heavy, a deep echo following behind me no matter how quietly I
try to walk.
Yet every
dawn arrives so quickly.
I barely
survived yet another night.
…
Yet here
I stand – asking. Tell me honestly.
When does
my shadow forget the shape it once followed?
When does
my scar become proof that this deep wound was never meant to heal?
When does
the silence around me stop feeling empty and start being my only company?
Maybe tomorrow
holds the key to my survival.
Or maybe
tomorrow is just another name for my darkness.
Maybe my
desire to heal is the only story I still tell myself.
Maybe I am
tired of seeking that door to liberation, just another fairy tale I hopelessly
believe in.
Maybe the
muffled echoes in my mind have always been my own voice - so uncertain.
Maybe I will
keep walking until even my shadow gives up on me.
Betrayal
doesn’t hurt me anymore.
Or maybe…
This is where
the words abandon me.
