Reveries & Wonders

The Dream Paradox

People say that having dreams
Was like wrapping a vine around my neck,
Using my own bare hands.
That it'd also require me to open up my chest,
Grab my pulsating heart,
And extract all my desires,
For connection. For love.
Squeezing until the last drop.
Until nothing of me remains.
Then, I must store them all in a jar.
And give it to the waves of the ocean.
Forever drifting away from me.

However, unlike other people,
I am nothing but a broken and empty vessel.
A caged bird that's only meant for decoration.
To entertain. To be a symbol of pride and success.
Shackled in my owner's mental space.

And so, when I learned how to dream,
I saw an escape. A way for me to be free.
I did everything in my power,
Endured all the pain,
And dictated my self worth,
According to the numbers in the paper.
To chase that dream.
The warnings didn't even bother me a bit
I believed that sacrifices are necessary.
I grew up with allowing other people
To climb up the ladder before me.
To put myself at the lowest priority.
So what is the difference,
If I hurt myself more?
To sacrifice my brain and body again?
At least, I finally found an anchor to live.
This is for the best.

Or so I thought.

Even if I climbed the highest mountains,
Swam the murkiest and deepest waters,
Inhaled the most dangerous fumes,
Even if I survived them all and turned out victorious,
The pain still remained.
Burning at the back of my head,
Ringing in my ears.
Like a scar on my skin that won't go away.

I have already achieved my dream.
But maintaining it?
It proved to be an another challenge.
Since my jar is somewhere in the middle of the ocean,
I was too broken beyond repair,
That even the smallest conflicts
Shake my core and rattle my bones.

Ah, so this is what it feels like,
When a caged bird, a lowly being,
Dared to dream.
Dared to get out of the cage,
And chose herself.
The cruel world has no patience,
For a frail soul like mine.
And it will continue to crash me,
As long as I am breathing.

A vessel that is used to being broken apart,
May be numb with all the pain,
But like all living things on earth,
It also has its ending. Its breaking point.
And like before I learned how to dream,
I am not terrified.
To be at the front of death's door.
For I am certain that when that moment comes,
I will lift my hand and knock on the door.