a daylight dream

sometimes, it's not me. those are not my tears. it’s those of a broken one, hidden deep within me. how did I survive those days without a single cry of help? how did I get by without entirely forsaking myself well, I did, didn’t I? the woman I am is but made of shards. fragmented, soulless, painted by scars. this is not who I thought I was. where did that effervescent optimism go? I used to speak of dreams, hopes and brighter tomorrows. now, it is but a golden cage. spiralling in stories of how I was not saved. memories of me scarring my own skin. dreaming of death, a locus on which the path ends. I have so much to be grateful for, I know. yet there is a cumulation of dread named after everything I've witnessed before. never being safe. always trapped. the gush of air needed to survive. I want to move on. I want to put that past behind me. yet, there is so much to undo. so much to feel. earth-shattering grief. everyone tells me to stride forward. don’t you see my vision boards ...

invisible. invincible, too. I turn into a fort. this solitude, once saved me, you know. it became my home of dreams and make-beliefs. torrentially heart-warming fantasies. and now, reality . sweet. blessed. but exhausting . once I was a committed audience,   now but an actress. I dream to go home, even while I lie in arms of the one I love. I dream to be where I don’t anymore. when I don’t have to make this real, when my dreams could float into scapes of reveries. how can I be who I am? how can I be that unspoken, that chimerical? but I’m expected now to live up to love. with courage, through my flaws. but this is not what I want. my solitude tastes of abandonment, but the bitterness is what I crave. the over-indulgent spiral. and never wanting to be saved. he looks at me with his sober eyes, his words sweet, his arms safe, still I let go. still I hold on to what I know. tortured, left behind, invisible. almost a figment from a faraway land. I want to be like that .