Caged in words

Vonetta

by Vonetta

Story

It is a strange feeling to lose yourself in your own mind. She thinks that every day, every single day, when the dark ideas about who she is, what she can do and cannot do, are too overwhelming. Those gentle thoughts, that come faster than the blink of an eye, and lighter than a summer breeze, only to settle down innocently. Settling down on a nutritious floor, made of little experiences, minor words and tiny gestures. But once they reach the floor, the thoughts become heavier and heavier until they grow roots, dig wide tunnels and branch everywhere. Into every idea, every memory, every moment she ever witnessed. Her thoughts invaded her mind and sheathed it, like a scaffolding, an unstable krutch.

But what happens if they vanish?

She’s afraid of her mind collapsing without the tunnels, which’ll leave empty halls inside.

What is happening to her? How can she despise the darkness, and simultaneously miss it? She feels lost and foreign in her own thoughts, detached and terrified of their nature.

Is it that easy for everybody? Is it that easy to feel those dark things luring beneath, although life is so beautiful? She has all you could ask for. A family she loves, friends she can laugh with, a profession that fulfills her.

“Now that’s not everything, is it?”, those thick roots whisper and their venom coat the walls of the tunnels. Acceptance would be needed. Empathie would be needed. Being heard and seen is needed. It is needed by her. She burst out of unsaid words nobody wanted to hear. She tried, and was ignored. The only thing that reacted were those roots and those tunnels inside of her, that became deeper, thicker and wider. She never tried again. Maybe that’s the reason, she thinks to herself and lets the curtains of her room fall shut, and lies down in her comfortable bed. Her safe cocoon made of dreams and peace. She cannot talk, but the words press out into the light, ready to be heard and seen and to be set free, to explore the world and ease her mind. She cannot let those words go, because once they’re gone there is only emptiness, judgement and shame. So she keeps quiet. She collects the words, they wait impatiently and dig deeper tunnels for the seething darkness. With a sigh she slips deeper into her cushions. Everything is so tiring. They can wait and rest another day, another night. She will rest too, and tomorrow, hopefully, she will be able to let the words go. Tomorrow she will take those roots and will be repotting them. Tomorrow, not now, not today. Maybe never.

© Vonetta 2022-04-05

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