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Shackled

Shackled

2 mins
554


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.



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