Navigating the shadow of my mother's image, I find myself ensnared by the fear of mirroring her turmoil in my bond with him. Her tears, her repetitions—they echo in my mind, a chilling prelude to what I dread becoming. Perhaps it's the haze of her intoxication that I see reflected in our shared visage during her most vulnerable moments. The terror of that resemblance grips me; I'm desperate not to inflict the same cycle upon him, yet the path to divergence is shrouded.
In the solitude of my high school years, I became my own sanctuary, crafting a fortress of self-reliance that now, paradoxically, rejects the reassurance of others. Their attempts to soothe me fall on deaf ears, my mind armored against the very comfort it craves. With him, my vulnerability feels like an open wound, and each of his assurances feels tinged with obligation rather than genuine sentiment.
As I gaze upon the little world i created, a monochrome sea of sameness stares back, a stark reminder of my detachment from the societal fabric. This fear of uniformity, of him being swept into the indistinguishable mass— it haunts me. He stands apart in my heart, a beacon of uniqueness, and the thought of losing that, of fearing him too, is a specter that looms ever closer.
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Pretty Words
Poetry"Pretty Words" is a raw and honest collection of words that delves into the journey of my own self-discovery and the challenges of personal growth. It's a personal vent, a release of the myriad emotions and thoughts one encounters on the path to und...
