Walking a Tight Rope

I wear my silence like a jacket two sizes small, buttoned up to my throat. The air feels thick as I struggle to breathe. Memories follow me like my shadow on the wall, and my mind is speedy like a car that has spun out of control. My heart pounds, and my brain tries to make sense of the chaos within me while keeping a smile on my face that says, “I am okay.” Sleep is a foreign language that I haven’t learned, and life begins to blur into a dreamlike state. What is real and what isn’t is walking a tight rope that is frayed. Images flooded, and I silently screamed. I hold onto my sanity with a breath barely coming out. Life becomes a nightmare that I can’t wake up from, and darkness becomes my best friend. Who can save me from this sinking boat? Who can free me from this prison? I am tired and weak, and my will is slowly dying. Who I am is fading like a shadow.

Shadow