Voices
You are about to say something or do anything but they are shouting in your head not to…
Voices of people you once knew… telling you that you aren’t allowed to go past these lines that you drew yourself, with their help.
They have managed to become a part of every action that you process to do but eventually give in to their screams.
These are the strings you need to cut. These are the ghosts from the past that you need to push away to make them leave you alone.
You are trying to move on but you can still see these p ale faces looking at you with shaking heads gesturing that what you’re about to do is useless and worthless … so you back out, stay quiet and nod your head.
Their shallow breaths are surrounding you every time you are courag enough to start up a conversion or stand up to something.
But you know what comes next.
They bind your hands from rising so you st art shivering, they lock your mouth from talking so you keep pausing the words, they lower your eyes to the ground and then they look at you smirking, only to remind you that you are still their prisoner for an eternity jail time.
But you’re sure you haven’t done anything wrong to be locked up in this cell of human bones.
You know that you have been taken in there off guard without notice.
Day by day then year by year, you’ve realised that this isn’t your mind where you’re at… this whole land across and the sky above are getting darker… until you hear their laughs one time and everything comes into perspective… you recognise those sounds and know that they are up to no good.
Running isn’t a viable choice right now because you are chained. you can move your hands around but that’s not the point… you can’t do anything without their permission.
And that’s how it started…
The whole not wanting to come close to people anymore as if you are putting them in danger of getting trapped too and that is the last thing you could think of gifting another person.
The running away and packing down at every new opportunity.
The idea of being a slave of your own mind.
The feeling of that magician who’s about to do the tank trick but end up dying in th at glass box.
How it’s like a paralyzing disease with only you to come up with a cure… how to eradicate an idea without putting an end to the whole brain.
You start to compromise by trading your own freedom with your own relief. Which is a winning situation but for the raiders. And a settling way of getting by one day at a time.
But there is hope. Time … that’s the greatest warrior… where you put all your faith in.
Believing in the power of change, and that nothing stays the same.
You carry on, you hold a smile, you make yourself think that you’re happy because one day you will be eventually.
When all these ghosts are tired and they finally come to rest. When each one of them is ready to move to another poor body.
When their cries are no longer heard, their eyes are no longer glowing in the dark, their smiling mouths are turned into frowns and their presence isn’t scary anymore.
THAT’S WHEN YOU ARE FREE .
Sham
