I have dug my own grave....
I've spent days when all I have left to do is cry, missing the smiles on my face. Thinking of a thousand ways to escape, but I know they will all bring me back to the same place.
I've spent so many years in captivity that freedom makes me anxious, I've lived my own life running away from things I can't control.
Here I am, I feel ready, I no longer belong to the world of the living, I am a wandering spirit between sobs and laments, between memories and dreams.
I remember that one day, imprisoned in this same jail, I wondered what it would be like to be happy, to be truly loved, to be with someone mentally and emotionally healthy, as I could never see palpable happiness, I only thought about death, I prayed a lot asking that before dying, I wanted to know what it was like to be happy, what it was like to be with someone who treats you well.
One day my jailer hurt me so much that I did not care about the darkness of the night, I could not see anymore, his hateful face against me made me run as fast as I could, I did not understand his hate, I ran, I ran very far, until my feet reached the place of my dreams, I was trembling, I was so afraid, when I lifted my face, there he was and his beautiful smile.
It was very dark at night, it was so dark, yet her body glowed, she gave light to my life, I felt peace and her warm hands dispelled my panic.
While he was taking care of me I was healing my wounds, I was coming back to life and after wishing so much for death, I began to fear him, I wanted to enjoy more of that piece of happiness that I had never lived.
Walking by his side brought me a deep peace, his voice brought me so much joy, his laughter, it was my laughter, he told me he was very happy with me and I, who thought he could not do that, admired his hands, his face, his beautiful white hair.
He took me to freedom, he was showing me the paths, and little by little I was suppressing my agoraphobia, I felt safe, it was a very beautiful place. When he was not there, I would go for a walk in wonder, it seemed like a fairy tale.
Suddenly I got sick and could not walk, he could hardly visit me and the loneliness I was rotting in that room. I did not understand how he stopped caring and suddenly stopped loving me.
I cried inconsolably, I felt fear, panic of dying alone, no one would know that I died, unless they felt the nauceabundant smell, I gave myself to death, but it mocked me once again.
It is not your time... Not yet.
Then, without him, there was no point in being there any longer, those memories turned to sadness and I fled back into the grasp of my horrible and abusive jailer. I did not want to live.
The day before I fled, he suddenly arrived apologizing, he explained to me that he had been imprisoned by obligations and had to leave me, but he planned to return with some beautiful flowers, but.... I was ready to leave.
He observed that I was gathering my things, deep inside I was waiting for him to ask me: Don't go, stay with me.... But that didn't happen, on the contrary, he kissed me on the forehead and he said goodbye.
A sad, long and painful farewell...
Now I just wait for death, and say goodbye sweetly, I remembered what I asked for, I don't know at what moment I rubbed the lamp and my wish came true, I should have asked for those moments to last longer.
Now back in captivity, freedom is impossible, I am at the mercy of the jailer and his mistreatment, he beats me, he shouts at me, but I no longer feel... I am no longer among the living. Now, I prepare to have my new wings and fly high.
I wish I could see him one more time, before I leave, but that will never happen.
Memories accumulate in my throat, I can hardly breathe, I swallow to keep them from escaping, but they flee through my eyes and slide down my cheeks, I have nothing left to do but touch them and let them go.
Pictures courtesy of Pixabay
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