This is the first of “The Emotive Epistle Series” by @Le_Tiny. If you are interested in featuring on this series, click HERE. Back to today’s post…
Dear mirror on the wall,
I have being keeping this to myself. But, I just can’t anymore. “She’s crazy,” everyone says. “I hate her,” he says. “I despise her”, she says. “She’s possessed,” they say. “She’s a freak; she’s a witch!” They all say. “How did you come to this conclusion?” I ask. “How well do you know me?” I ask. “What wrong have I done?” I ask, but as always, no one answers. Why should they? They know me not; they understand me not, but they conclude and pass their judgments upon me. “She’s very anti-social; she’s too rude; she’s very wicked, evil and mean,” they sing like a song. “She doesn’t have any friends…no one likes her.” “She’s a psycho; she’s a mad dog. Do well to stay far away from her.” “She’s a slut, a whore, a prostitute, and all things derogatory.” “Let’s hurt her,” they say. “Let’s make her cry.” “Let’s punish her.” “She’ll never know peace as long as I live”, they say.
STILL…I ask, “What wrong have I done? What unforgivable sin have I committed? What can I do to change your minds?” I ask…They heed me not. I sit and cry all day and night, but no one sees my tears; I worry all morning, but no one sees my pain. No one cares. No one cares to ask, “What is wrong?” No one cares to ask, “What ails you?” No one cares to find out why I am so sad, NO ONE CARES. They all attack me, from different angles, with different weapons, sometimes individually, sometimes in groups. They all want a pound of my flesh; they all want a piece of my hide as a trophy; they want a sip of my blood. They all want me dismembered…I run, I hide, I fight, but they still keep coming. If I run, they chase after me, calling me a coward…and urge me to fight them. If I hide, they look everywhere for me, prodding my hiding place with sticks, and urge me to come out and fight. If I decide to fight, they shout at the top of their voices: “She has gone mad again!” “She’s at it again!” “I told you she was crazy!”
I stand, undecided, confused, not knowing which way to go. I have thought about putting an end to it all, but I know it is wrong in the sight of the creator to kill myself; it is wrong against all humanity. So I sit and cry some more; what else do you expect me to do but cry? I can no more laugh nor smile since you all give me no reason to. Take a gander at the world in my eyes; take a walk around the world in the same paths I have trod; be blessed with my own knowledge. Until you have suffered what I have been through, you have no right to judge me…
I am tired of trying to please everyone. My heart bleeds, my soul cries, my body withers and my mind yearns for some supernatural touch, some healing outside of myself. I have been through a lot, I have seen too much. My heart is weak from bleeding too much; my eyes are swollen from crying too much. My legs ache from walking far, far, far away, trying to find a place of solitude. I am scared of everyone; scared of those around, scared of what goes on in their hearts and minds. I have been hurt too much.
I have spent not up to 22 harmattans in this cruel, cruel, cruel world; yet, my heart, my mind, my body and soul have suffered for a life-time…I just want to sit somewhere, peacefully, and cry the pain away. Tears wash my soul and cleanse me; they stop me from doing and thinking evil. Crying is not too good, but it is better than hurting someone. It shows my helplessness, but at the same time, it makes me reach out to God. Sometimes, I don’t want to live anymore, but then again, I haven’t even seen much of this world. I want to stay, but they don’t want me to. I try and try to speak out my feelings, but I find no voice to. I try and try to write down my feelings and construct them into words. But no words can explain the deep feeling of inner pain, betrayal, hurt, sorrow, and all I have been through. There is no word I can use to explain how I feel. The pain is too deep to find words which best express it.
PEACE…why can’t I find it? No matter where I go, trouble, hatred, evil, pain…they all follow me. Why can’t I find PEACE? Yes, I know I am hiding; I know I am running away; call me whatever you like, but I am tired of fighting. Even if I fight, there’s no end to this pain and trouble. More will still come to fight me…I know…I know…but why? Why always me? Why? Why?? Why???
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