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Summer Capture Me Challenge: My first Entry - 3_Muses [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
3_Muses

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Summer Capture Me Challenge: My first Entry [Jul. 11th, 2007|02:56 pm]
3_Muses

3_muses

[goodisrelative]
[music |Wicked Soundtrack - "For Good"]

Okay, here is my prose. I am not good at poetry.
This piece doesn't have a title, but I wrote it a week or so ago. It's basically how I feel currently. There will be at least one more, but I need to work that one a bit more.


It’s like being trapped in a cage where you don’t have room to stand up, let alone stretch. Except you are claustrophobic and the walls are literally, slowly closing in on you. You can see the walls move millimeter by millimeter as the cage shrinks around you.

But it’s not that at all, because it a movable crystal-clear cage, one you can travel anywhere you want to on the globe in – from large city to smaller city to a tiny village and back again. It doesn’t hinder your movements in the “real” world over a geographical area. It only hinders your brain, your soul – smothering them slowly.

After all, where you are isn’t where you imagined you’d be. That you are sure of even though your imagination is gone – one of the first casualties of sacrifice when you started hacking bits and pieces of yourself off to have room in that crystal-clear cage you’re trapped in. Parts of you lost, lying dead or dying on the floor that only gets smaller – so much lost now that you don’t even recognize yourself in the reflection that stares back at you.

They were small, the deviations that led you to this nightmare, but looking back they could have been as big as the galaxy you can no longer see – ever since you lost sight of the stars an eternity ago.

You’re waiting for a day that won’t ever come – the day someone sets you free – but you’ve lost years waiting and you are finally starting to see the words written in shattered dreams. The only one who can save you is yourself.

So you go back to the beginning – where you last felt alive – and with the last shard of hope, you pray to a god you can’t decide actually exists that you can mend bits and pieces into a new you. Not the same, but different – older, wiser, stronger, freer. A body alive again, instead of the wasted decay you were inside a shrinking cage of your own making.
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Comments:
[User Picture]From: shealynn88
2007-07-20 01:10 am (UTC)
Wow. This is gorgeous and dark. Your word use is stunning, especially these lines:
where you are isn’t where you imagined you’d be
This is such a common theme. I feel it daily, and I know most of the people my age feel the same. When you're a child, all these possibilities just stretch out before you...and every choice you makes takes you into less possibility. It's a little frightening.
you are finally starting to see the words written in shattered dreams
I just love the wording. The idea that you can read things in those dreams that you've discarded or broken along the way...that we can learn from them all and maybe make something of ourselves after all.
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[User Picture]From: goodisrelative
2007-07-20 12:51 pm (UTC)
Thanks.
Yes, adulthood can sometimes be a deadly place for dreams.

I'm kinda at this point, which is why I think it came out so well... just getting past the darkness with new light on the horizon.

I really appreciate your comments!
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