Crucial Cords

“To get something worthwhile, you must give up something.

The deepest, most personal

aspects of yourself.”

I've heard that one, and I agreed.

I didn't realise it then,

but ultimately I gained more than I lost.

I had nothing to begin with.

So I couldn't really lose anything.

New, juicier sections flourished

replacing what had been so roughly removed.

No one seemed to take notice of the shift…

Or perhaps I'm wrong about that?

No one ever levelled with me face-to-face.

Everyone just sidestepped the issue, and then

plunged into neglect, isolation, and regret,

hoping to find some solace in all this.

Though I didn't mean to, I transformed

my mask into something new.

Sharing it with the world, hoping for peace.

I went to places others wouldn't.

Perhaps because they're free?

That's why people avoid them, maybe?

Locked away, I endured.

Surviving the decades of horrors I was force-fed.

Their poison, its stench and flavour

transmuted into something new.

Something no one wants to acknowledge,

too busy with someone else's life

to see a victory.

They simply need to experience it firsthand

the very things that have been the downfall

of others' dreams, while mine

crafted to traverse through the minds of many ,

unbound by tickets or weather,

drifting effortlessly in void space,

sharing tales others overlooked,

or perhaps, tales they never wrote themselves.

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Thank you for reading!