| Home has become a prison hiding me away from life. Despair overwhelms me, the strong grip of desperation and hopelessness drags me to the floor in an endless night full of tears. Even the moon hides from me as I watch this sleepy town from behind my curtains. I am a prisoner within this weakened body with illnesses that no one can see. You say that it is all in my mind, that I just want attention. Why can't you believe me? Why torture me even more, as if this death sentence is not enough for me to face? Why? Do you think that I haven't cast myself prostrate begging in my prayers to ease this suffering, to make people understand? I have wished for the pain to show itself in the vivid purple and blue bruises that would pepper my body, so that you would finally believe that this is real, so that you would finally believe... me. I long to drag myself out of this pit of misery, but I just splinter my nails and scratch at these invisible walls until my hands bleed. I have forgotten who I used to be and am consumed with questioning why I should continue this struggle. Why should I travel alone while surrounded by people? Why should I plaster a smile on my face and utter complete lies that I am doing great to appease your need to believe that everything is flawless in your world? If I am shunned by those around me then why should I care about any of this? Why should I live to wonder what life would have been like for me if I could have lived in your world? My life is just an endless midnight and my soul will surely be stained by the blood upon my hands if I end this torment. And yet maybe then you'll stand by my grave and wonder what life would have been like for me if you had believed, if you had just believed. Georgia C. |
| I have finally found my way home. With the sun on my back, a light breeze tickling the hair on my neck, and children's laughter carrying from the nearby school I must smile. I must delight in the sounds of life, of infant birds chirping in their nests and squirrels arguing while racing through the trees. I must delight in the tantalizing scents of spring; the sweet mixed fragrance of fresh flower and apple blossoms, newly cut grass, freshly baked goods sitting in nearby windows. I had forgotten that I love the smell of lilacs in full bloom and the caress of the sun upon my face. I had forgotten that I was carried over this threshold as a new bride, that we had our first argument in that room over there, and our first apologies were said by that tree, and that I love being someone's wife. I failed to realize that I had stopped noticing the beauty of life all around me. I had lost sight of the teasing phrases, sweet prose, and tempting passion that flowed when I sat down with paper and pen.; I forgot that I am proud to be a writer. I overlooked so many moments and so many words that would have lifted my heart while I was caught in the depths of despair. I won't allow myself to regret what I have missed because I'm going to focus on these enchanting moments, my cheerful, comforting friends and on learning to love myself again. As I have told you I have finally found my way home. Georgia C. |