An old poem written while on break at the bookstore I worked at from Feb-Oct 2011
If you get through the wall it will all come spilling and I won’t be able to pretend I’m okay
Masks and mirrors have kept me safe this long, watching my life pass as a reflection, free of pain and fear—believing if you think I’m fine then I can keep pushing through, walking through this nightmare
Keeping the demons in me trapped behind these glass walls, staring ahead. Not seeing I’m surrounded I pretend I’m fine. What you don’t know can’t hurt you but what I refuse to see is killing me.
These monsters are there, they’re real and so I fight to stay looking ahead, protecting myself from what’s inside
But someone appears from out of the black nothing that make me up, telling me there is a light in this dark, a way out of the torture hidden behind my eyes
I’m still surrounded by not-seen demons, still walking straight ahead. But now there’s something—another way of seeing the shadows that make me believe there must be a light somewhere creating them
A comfort comes from knowing these shadows aren’t consuming. Not Hope, not that strong, but Knowing. Knowing what I’ve seen, where I’ve been isn’t everything. Knowing there’s another layer gives me the strength to look for it.
Now I’m watching, looking to find a light, a door, a way out. No long walking resigned.