Every Christmas light is like a scorn. All the pretty glitter is taunting loudly. The symbol of the tree, a repetitive reminder of what's missing.
Here we go, once again, the story repeating itself, with the not comforting exception that the very unimaginable worst has already happen.
But why not bruise that heart some more. Like if it wasn't already sore and heavy we have to make sure that pain can still be felt.
What was purposely numbed and pushed into submission got lured out, now bursting in hurting agony. The hope that was hidden in jaded emptiness woke. Now crushed into smithereens, which each tremble of fear. The naive innocence from a pure need is pounding with diseased anxiety.
A heart that hates, hope became fear, dreams turned into disappointment. This is what we learned. And yet history got repeated.
It's time to give up. Move on. Crawl back into the shell, don't even poke your nose out. Live sheltered, lonely and stay busy. Don't leave time for thoughts to wander. To sneakily grow into expectations and desires.
Why do you never learn? There is no perfection and no happy endings. Your cynicism should've told you there's a reason fairy tales ends when they do; what happens after is an ugly truth.
1 comment:
great as always. Thanks
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