A Free Prisoner

I’ve been here a while. Is someone coming to get me? When will the light show itself again? Do I only deserve the darkness? This dark cloud follows me around like my shadow but there is still no light. At least it doesn’t rain all the time. Just when the clouds get heavy, when the weight is to much. I am here. I haven’t left. I haven’t escaped. I see keys to the gate. No guards. No resistance. It is me. I am the resistance. I am the weapon formed against me. I feel the burning sensation to run but where? I live in this enclosed space. Just four corners. Just darkness. I see the world, but the world doesn’t see me. The world doesn’t need me but I still exist. I still use its oxygen. I could end it all, but I keep coming back to the beginning.

It’s no fucking way I can give up now. I have already been in the dirt. Buried deep but still able to breathe. I can’t let go of this feeling though. It has a hold on me. Holding my hand tight. Walking me through my memories every night. Sometimes I just stay up. Can’t get me if I don’t meet you in our meeting place. In that enclosed space. In the darkness with just four corners. Just us. You and me. I never knew how much this grief meant to me. So much it’s apart of me. It shares a space with me. Of course, I say I won’t visit again. I want to see the light. I don’t recognize myself anymore. The image of myself is distorted. It’s blurry but I am still here. I haven’t left. I haven’t escaped. I see keys to the gate. No guards. No resistance. It is me. I am the resistance. I am the weapon formed against me

I grief myself. I grief a version of me that never got a chance to grow. A version of myself that was robbed right under my nose. I was replaced with a girl who hated herself from her head to her toes. Finding disgust wherever beauty should grow. Oh, what a pity. What a waste. If I could just find a reason…1 reason to love what the world says I should erase. My mind is playing tricks on me again. I don’t think I like this game. I am alone and wish someone would come play. Come save me. I am still here. I haven’t left. I haven’t escaped. I see keys to the gate. No guards. No resistance. It is me. I am the resistance. I am the weapon formed against me

I am a slave to my emotions. A slave to my open wounds. This season has brought a drought of sunshine. I guess that’s okay. My eyes have become adjusted to the darkness. All that I can see around me is confusion. Shackled by my desperation. Not even sure I know how much love I truly deserve. I hope I wake up soon. I don’t think I like this place anymore. Each time I visit I stay a little longer than the last time. The space is getting bigger. The four corners are expanding. The darkness is becoming my light. I know that can’t be right, but I am used to wrong. Wrong always last longer. Wrong has been around since my birth. I guess I will always be a prisoner to this place. I am still here. I haven’t left. I haven’t escaped. I see keys to the gate. No guards. No resistance. It is me. I am the resistance. I am the weapon formed against me