“The fire dances, mesmerizing as it twirls on its own, yet so dangerous when it grows bigger or when you come closer”
I can’t get enough of the tension, this sick, haunting, compelling anticipation. I see the fire, feel its warmth sear my veins from afar, and I can’t wait to be burned.
“You set me ablaze and I enjoy the pain”
But you skip and turn away, facing the shadows whose reassurance I seek so avidly. You never grant me what I wish.
So I resort to emotional lows, letting myself freefall and revelling in the adrenaline rush, that feeling of finally being free from my cumbersome past and from trivial, every-day chatter.
I love falling, I am thrilled by it, it drives me insane. The shadows taunt me, never letting me in. And how can I resist? When falling is too easy, when it feels natural; whereas standing tall and fighting feels like doing evil. How do I know which is villain and which saviour?
So I wait in the dark for an answer that I know full well will never come. Yet my certainty never wavers. I know someone, somewhere, will hear my silent cries, my screaming pleads.
The shadows answer me, I can nearly distinguish their torned silhouettes through the dense fog of denial. The figures’ cold inhales and exhales rattle my bones and my heart races fit to burst with the torment. My fingers stretch beyond the frigid iron bars of the gate, but I am not given entry. I struggle and squirm to no avail.
Because I am not meant to give in to my darkness.
July 6th 2015