Collection of My Mini Works

Captivated

There's a page on my desk and a pencil in my hand. My mind is clear and ready for ideas to flow, but my heart is so empty, I can't bare to think a simple thought. Its awkward to move. If I stand I won't stop walking. I want to run, but I just can't. Life is so full of adventure, but here I am trapped in these four walls. I would love to explore, but I've never been in the wild. I've been caged all my life. I've been buried in material things that only satisfy me when I'm happy.

Though.. I shouldn't speak in that manner. This cage is all that I know. It's my safe house, my haven. I'm too much of a coward to step foot in the ice-cold reality of this world. A cage is where we cowards belong. A cage is where we cowards stay. Away from harm and heartache. Away from stress and pain. Though the metal bars are cold, and the floor is rusted, I still can't bare to abandon what I once held so close. I was raised in this human trap. I was brought here as a mere child. How can I let go of something so sentimental? How would I bare the greater emptiness that's to come if I do? Tears won't stop it. Nothing I do seems to fill the void. Inside I feel as if my heart was lost in space. I can barely feel it's warm beat. I am at discomfort everywhere I lay.

I begin to shiver from the cold no matter how warm my clothes and blankets appear. Sleep has become easier, though. This cold consumes me and forces my eyes to shut. I rest. I won't awaken. My head tells me to rise, but my body refuses to listen. I can't. I can't regain the strength to stand. The bed is lonely, but warm. It soothes my ache and draws me into a heavy dream.

Maybe when I open my eyes, all of this emptiness would just be my imagination? Maybe I'll awake with smiles and laughter because the loneliness and tears weren't real?

Maybe.. it will all be a simple nightmare, because I ate too late and too much the night before..

I'll open my eyes to friends and loved ones at my side. To warm hugs, and kind watery eyes that were waiting for me throughout the time of my absence of body.

Perhaps, there would be balloons and flowers and gifts, with a banner in front of my eyes welcoming me back to the world.. to my home. Who's to say what's to come?

Maybe I'll open my eyes and see that the car I jumped in front of, to save my broken-hearted lover, wouldn't have hurt me.. wouldn't have made me bleed. Maybe the blood was my imagination too. And his crying eyes.. his hurting heart.. maybe.. it's all my imagination.. its all just a dream.. I'm not sitting in this white room with a white jacket that hugs me tight. I'm not hearing the men in long white coats whispering, behind the metal door - I hear them through the cold metal bars - how "my sanity lost in the accident"..

Daddy will come and take me home. As soon as he and mama stop crying. My lover will hold me close and tell me it was all just a dream.. just my imagination.. just a thought to distract me from the nothingness I felt before I dared to step out into the open.. just my head playing games.. my mind playing tricks....

I know this... because there's a page on my desk and a pencil in my hand. And these four walls are all I know.

So why... why is it so awkward to move...?