Blisters

7/29/17 10:29pm

I have so many emotions, thoughts, and feelings inside my chest, but I have no way of knowing where to start to push these relentless, classified thoughts past my tongue, because it seems that once again I've bitten it off and swallowed it whole, and am choking on its overwhelming desperation to be heard.

I feel numb and exhausted and so, so immensely sad that it has sewn my cracked, bitten lips shut, because I haven't had the energy to speak for what feels like a lifetime or to muster the strength to rip the threads.

So, the only option is for this inexplainable cobweb of emotions to make itself at home in the endless corridors of my mind without even having the decency to knock or wait to be invited in.

And believe me, that's the last place in the world you'd want to be.

Right now, the inside of my mind is pitch black. Like how it is on those nights where the moon is completely hidden, and the eerie darkness is so palpable that it makes every hair stand on end, and your immediate instinct is to bolt to the nearest light source you can find to escape whatever horror in the dark your mind conjured up.

But there's no front porch light under a safe home to flee to the front door and hastily and clumsily scramble for your keys so you can crash inside and breathe again like it's the first breath you've taken in years.

There's none of that here.

There is only empty corridor after corridor with cruel, deceiving doors scattered throughout.
And when you finally reach that door to your freedom and feel that invigorating, relieving excitement of hope, you open it to only be met with a cold, solid concrete wall.

And your heart drops to your stomach.

Your hope for a way out is shattered and you are absolutely devastated,
because this place is completely and utterly petrifying, filled with hundreds of your worst demons that broke your spirit countless times in the past but did not manage to shatter your soul, only because of the fact that your stubbornness saved you from leaving this world by your own trembling hands.

And boy, are they pissed about it.

But you can't see them or defend yourself because you're surrounded by the thickest and most suffocating darkness you never even imagined could exist.

So what now?

Keep manically searching through the corridors until your feet blister only to be met with more false doors and even more false hope?
Pointless.

So now your hands are tied and you've exhausted every option to escape this personal hell.
You're completely drained from running
And running
And running
for miles and miles

So rest for a moment.
Gather your thoughts.

Put your hands on your knees and feel the fire in your lungs as you gasp for air.
For life.
Feel the sweat drip down your forehead and hear its drop on the stone echo throughout every single corridor.
Grasp onto your sanity because you will not lose yourself in here, dammit.
This chasm hasn't swallowed you whole just yet.
You're not done.

Accept where you are.

You have tried everything you could possibly think of to find a solution and you can do no more.

Accept it and embrace it.
Process it.

Now sit down because I know those blisters are hurting you, sweetheart.
You can do nothing more to get out of this dreadful place.

Accept it.
Rest now.

And as your heavy eyelids win the upper hand over your racing thoughts, you focus on the unevenness of your labored breath slowing down, while the blood rushing in your ears reminds you that you are still alive and very much real.

And in this you find peace.
I wouldn't say happiness, but peace.
Acceptance.
And with acceptance comes power and strength

So you use what little strength you can muster to squint your eyes in the darkness in hopes of seeing at least a tiny glimpse of what surrounds you.
It's a lost cause and you already know that, but you're a stubborn one.

The exhaustion begins to wash over you again and suddenly the darkness isn't so bad.
Soothing actually.

You lie down, senses heightening, becoming fully aware of your heavy body and your fearful, overzealous mind.

And you let go.

You rest.

You accept the darkness.

The endless corridors.

The possibility of never escaping.

And in that rest you feel hope.
For what or why is uncertain.
But that flicker of hope manifests into a flicker of light far, far off in the deep corridors.

So you stumble to your feet, knees shaking, and pick your shivering, fragile body up from the cold, unforgiving ground, wincing as your blisters sting against the frigid concrete.

And you try again.

But this time time you are not hastily running, only slowly limping at your own pace.
And as that flicker of light grows nearer, you see your front porch light twinkling in the distance.

And calmly
Without running
Without a sliver of fear,
You quietly and gradually limp back home.

You limp back home to bandage those beautiful blisters.