k. 

looking back on August i found some sort of trial of love that was only for a short period. it was a tale of seeing how all these sad, helpless emotions played out and investigating a part of life i wasn’t ready for… like at all. i was head over heels at the beginning, but i started to stand stiller and stiller with the passing days. i didn’t want to feel that. feel like my time was for nothing, but each time i pressed on thinking the feelings would evolve into something favorable i was sadly mistaken.

the bed where i did most of my thinking was soft even if i had made it incorrectly. i figured myself out here alone, which a part of me liked that time alone from the trial. it was a relief from all the faking, and all the situations i dreaded being present in. i liked the trial but i hated it as well. i knew the feelings were dull and the experience was mundane but yet i played the part trying to convince myself i was just lying.

but lying to yourself never lasts. i could say it over and over but it would never pass. i remember the feeling the trial had cast upon me, like i was an owned, and conquered piece of property that had no say against it without the wrath. i was ornament collected and placed upon a wall for people to admire the accomplishment of the trial roping me into captivity.

i had this voice inside that rebelled against the situation that was present. it had been there since the day i wore black, foreshadowing the blackhole i was about to fall into. the voice was there when i didn’t like the way the trial touched me, or the way i was held, or when i was ordered around like a servant boy…it was there.

unfortunately the voice grew numb as the days carried on. not addressing it’s complaints, and worries seemed to silence it for i had resisted my own conscience for far too long before its voice had died out like an ember in a flame. a flame that was once so bright and full, now wasn’t even a glimmer of the slightest form of hope i could obtain.  but it was directly because i was seduced by the older age and felt like my voice was already muted and i couldn’t come out to save myself. i was just supposed to sit still, and look pretty to please only the trials desires.

i knew it wasn’t for me, i am not someone to be confined, or held down but be a fluttering colorful butterfly that is meant to see the world from above. i wanted to spread my wings away from it, that place i had once thought was correct. wishing someone could come rescue me from the awkwardness and the sadness i had walked into.

i remember crying when the trial departed for some time one day. i cried because i was alone. alone inside my head knowing i couldn’t be myself, my single self. my color was a dark black with this infinite storm cloud raining down upon me. my tears being pulled down my cheek every day, symbolized the rain from the storm inside that had poured all over me. soaking my whole body in the sorrow i let myself feel.

how did i, someone who is so independently strong, let myself receive this form of darkness into my life? its like the mask i had looked into and kissed was laced with a drug that took away my voice and left it only in my head. my voice was the only thing i had to fight back with and it was taken. i needed it back.

i needed away, from this cruel, selfishness, i had met from the trial.

my body was never harmed but my mind had been left askew. thinking i needed this to live a happy life which now makes it all the more rotten. the situation was like a red apple. on the outside. vibrant and bold like the red traffic light i should have known that i ran straight through coming into this. but the trials’ insides were of those of a rotten apple that contained black and brown crawling with a concealed evil i didn’t want and need to move forward as me. the place i would go to clock into the dreadful emotions was decorated so elegantly and i now i know the feelings were as fake as the decorations on the walls. presented to lure me into the helpless, hopeless blackhole that i was so far in. it was so dark i couldn’t even find myself anymore.

the day when my brother arrived was the day the mole hill had grown into a mountain. thinking i was okay to have a life outside, filled with fun and enjoyment away from the trial was totally false. this assumption that i had carried out had ignited the fire inside the trial. there was no pleased look or feeling. it was like i was in trouble and needed to be punished. i finally revealed my true emotions, written on my face with a fresh marker, leaving the scent of disbelief. the trial made me feel guilty for something i had become, underachieving the expectations the trial had previously set for me.

i had finally awoken. resurrected from the ill i was put under. i had opened my eyes and found my mouth gagged. i was in a dreamy nightmare that would finally be ending soon. the lies i had told myself the week previously had turned into jokes and my intentions were set. i needed a way out of this mess that i had found myself in. this trial wasn’t for me. i found i wasn’t ready for that and i didn’t mix well at all with this aged trial anyway. my path will carry me forward and when i am ready for that i will know but this for sure wasn’t it.

it was difficult trying to crawl out of the deep dark hole to the light i once knew. it had taken everything out of me. i needed to keep climbing even with the struggle. i could see the light, it was getting brighter and brighter and i knew i would be okay. leaving the trial back in the lair of darkness, i found my voice again. i found it had been there all along, just needing to realize i was as strong as i ever was. all it took was expelling the darkness that had been injected inside of me.

soon after i was free from the clutches of the never ending trial, in the light outside gleaming ever so brightly again, i found out i was being verbally bashed at a bar. the trial, distraught i found my way out, spoke the words of “self absorbed”

well that trial can keep the opinions and those feelings because it will never own this boy.  i was born free and i don’t need its mouth to say or dictate anything for me. for all i care i don’t want to hear the trials words or pathetic excuses as to why i’m crazy and need help. look at who’s the one still seeking my help that i will never give. this butterfly is gone, flying out of the black cocoon it kept me in. holding me hostage from my true happiness.

…i am much happier alone than in somebody’s evil clutches.

i shall live my life with laughs and smiles because..

i know..

i am free.

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