Trapped between expectation and desire.

I’m trapped inside this endless darkness, this four walled prison yet you cannot cage the passion, the avidity that flows through my bones, for it is a part of me, for it is unstoppable. You tell me to “shut up”, to “seal this filthy mouth of mine” and your brutal words are enough to shatter me but I’ll happily pick myself up, piece by piece because I’m taught to not give up on people, even if just the sight of them fills my insides with utter disgust.
I am shackled to expectations, each one of them leaving a mark, more painful than the other. At times even my own voice seems to be a distant memory, my thoughts too dry, my words unreachable. I feel like the world around me is fading away or maybe it is just my existence that has become rotten. It feels as if my blood has turned into acid, constantly corroding on the walls, the barriers that I have created to protect myself from your suffocating gaze.
The idea of freedom always seems to be too far away yet it is just outside the window. I have dreamt of wandering aimlessly in fields of subtle green, and sitting in beds of vividly red roses. I have dreamt of loosing myself to the sultry summer breeze and singing along with the melodies of nature. I have felt the vastness of the azure sky inside me and have yearned to soar freely in this uninterrupted stretch of ethereal blue. I have dreamt about belonging to the depths of the oceans and for the waves to be my escape. I have dreamt of lying under the velvety night sky, and for the beauty of the shimmering stars to take my breath away. I have dreamt of being alive.
Though I might be trapped, caged within these unbreakable boundaries, my soul is still more wild, more fearless than the insecurity, the guilt that will forever fog your presence.
The sadness still lingers but it is not raw anymore, I just feel an insignificant emptiness. There are times when I feel nothing at all and then there are times when I feel it all at once. I don’t know what is worst, to drown in this soundless oblivion or die of thirst.

Picture source:Noah Silliman
Shimmer

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9 Replies to “Trapped between expectation and desire.”

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