Shackled2 mins 522 2 mins 522
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,
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,
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.