Chains & Freedom

The tears do not fall down my cheeks
They roll down my throat
The smiles I paint on my face
Are white lies stuck on to save face
The words I speak are laced with pain
But tinged with humour and jest to deceive

My bed has become a prison and a refuge
Dawn breaks and Im loathe to rise
but before the night beckons I seek solace in the sheets
I toss and turn, rest and recover,
The alarm goes off but I am not roused by its shrill sounds
I want to sleep away the day, every part of it.

Is life so bad? Is there nothing more to it than this?
Am I to crawl around as a beast hunted?
The pain sears, it lashes out without pity, without mercy
It smothers and seeks to crush out every flicker of life
The burden is more than I can bear
Will no one help lift it from my chest?

Silently, quietly I feel a breath of fresh air
Swirling like a mist within the dank damp walls of my prison
It does not chill and it does not tease
Its a whisper yet it wraps itself like a warm blanket around my cold bones
It eases the pain I feel, it lifts the boulder lying on my heart
and it brings with it a flicker of light and a taste of hope.

Comments

  1. Sounds like how I've felt for most of my teen and adult life! You took me back there, the most painful and darkest moments of my existence.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks for stopping by Swat!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Anonymous7:23 AM

    Hmmm... couldn't have described my own experience better... but the beauty I live for/with/on is the 'warmth of the whisper'...

    Great piece again!

    ReplyDelete

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