I’ve failed many people and on many fronts. I’m a soldier taken prisoner by my own mind and spoken words. How I wished I could release all the words repressed in my heart, at the tip of my tongue. They won’t come out no matter what. They are locked and afraid. What good are they anyway if they might hurt and maim. No, I cannot let them escape. We shall be together in our golden cage made of hopes and dreams that will never be. Or let the words stay in that dark and damp room in that corner of my mind where thoughts go to die. Let them stay there keeping me company and making me cry. 

Let them suffocate me while screaming to come out. They are full of bile anyway. I suppose someday I shall vomit them all because they’ve decayed. They will come out all ugly and deformed for prickling my stomach as a desperate fight for their freedom. 

Still I won’t let them come out. I’ll keep them all in, everywhere and all around. They will continue to punch me in the stomach, scratch my throat, scream inside my mind until I go mad. And who is to say I am not mad. 

The only words I will allow are the ones that feel the deepest. 

I am sorry for my poor existence. 


2 thoughts on “Words

  1. While I can sympathise with you on the existential crisis issue, I have to say I really liked reading this piece! Especially when you compare yourself to a soldier taken prisoner by your own mind. It’s such a great analogy! 🙂


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