Shackled
Shackled


The past is the past!
I screamed in my head,
Wailing on the inside
But calm on the outside.
My exterior poised
My interior in ruins.
I had become the epitome of delusion,
I had become the epitome of tolerance.
I believed I was loved and wanted,
I believed that my Now is better than my past,
And my future will be beyond my expectations.
I believed and believed the lies I told myself,
Self destruct was on,
No way to repair the damage.
I believed that too.
Then one day I looked up,
Looked into the mirror,
The mirror showed my unharmed exterior and
My eyes reflected my bruised interior.
I saw the wrinkles of worry beside my brows,
The laugh line overlapped with a sad line.
I was tired, tired of pretending to be happy.
The makeup was no longer sufficient to cover my ruins
The ruins which I accumulated
and kept as a treasure in my chest.
My heart was now no longer oblivious to the treacherous mind
It sensed the reality my mind denied.
I realized it was me who was pruning my wings
Little by little to only shackle my feet.
I thought if I loved unconditionally,
Sacrificed unquestionably,
Rejoiced unwillingly,
Suppressed my pain voluntarily,
Ignored humiliation continuously
I will get the love back in return for which I had been longing.
But the truth was,
When I set myself free from my feelings of guilt,
Of small failures to stand up to someone else's idea of perfect,
I smiled.
After an era, it seemed.
My bruised interior felt the soothing,
I rejoiced with my freedom
And my leaped and wept with joy.
This was true freedom,
Freedom from my own mind's control
And walking away from the dark corners of depression.