Stuck in the Shadow Storm

I was surrounded by dust.

Dust turned sharp.

Dust turned cold.

Dust turned dark.

I was surrounded by dust.

The dust of my past, my future, my lingering present.

The dust that turned into shadows.

The shadows that I allowed to surround me now.

When did this happen?

How can I escape?

The shadows are dense, I can’t see past the darkness.

Everything was gnawing on me, encouraging pain to swell like the poisonous bite from that of a Black Widow.

I placed an arm before my face, as if that would do anything to dilute the rough pieces.

It was a storm, a storm that raged inside, that raged outside. It was a storm of my very being. Something I couldn’t conceal, I couldn’t control.

I would drown in it eventually.

The shadow-touched dust waving its arms up my body and into my mouth, my nose, my eyes. It would envelop me completely. Turn me into the monster I made.

How could I stop this?

I let it get this bad, the hell I forged in the raging fire of my brain that we call sane. 

I closed it in a ball too weak to hold it all.

Now, it erupted. It erupted into every mistake, every moment of despair, every heartbreak, every loss I’ve ever endured. It all came out in a burst too much to handle. Like a bullet through your chest, it left me bleeding out. Slowly dying as just the mere weight of it was crushing me down.

My lungs are filling with this plague, catching my breath and making it hard to breathe. 

I must get air.

But how?

How, how, how, how to cope with it all?

I need a light.

Anywhere, everywhere.

I need a source.

A source of hope, of possibility, of love.

A source of light.

Something to obliterate this never ending darkness.

It’s with a start, I realize the undying truth.

This was me.

I started it.

Forged it.

Made it.

And because I’m the creator, I can also be the destroyer.

I close my eyes against the revolutionizing black, rewarded with the same color when I do so.

But this time, there’s something else.

A source.

I try to grasp it because it’s as small as the particles that surround me now.

I try to focus.

To channel.

To see.

To breathe.

An unknown wind grapples my hair, causing it to flow and wisp around my face.

Eyelashes twitching.

Brows narrowing.

Mouth in a tight line.

I urge the source to come through.

I try everything.

But I find it slipping away just as quickly as it came.

I lost it.

I would forever be stuck here.

Blood dripped down my nose.

After all those years of pushing others away. 

After all those years of concealing my true self.

After all those years of trying to protect everyone else from the problems in my head.

I wanted to protect them.

But I never really stopped to think of how much I was hurting myself in doing so.

How many times I cracked myself to avoid everyone else.

How I left myself deserted, isolated, feeling as if I deserved this, as if this is what needed to be done.

I opened my sunken eyes, devoid of everything I had left.

A shadow’s deformed body makes its way towards me, its eyes blacker than its skin.

I want to scream, the thing is so horrific, but I can’t. I can’t even move.

I fall to the floor, growing weaker by the second in this damned dust.

The shadow finally reaches me, kneeling down.

It’s voice is kind, deep and soothing, but it’s words are like knives, blades piercing through my veins.

“You’re broken. And the broken can’t be fixed if not all of their pieces are present. You’re broken. And you’ve left no one else to help you find the rest.”

It repeats this truth over and over again, making my ears bleed with the reality of it.

I cry.

And cry and cry and cry.

I cry to try to let it all go, to make the pain leave me. But it’s never ending and I find I can’t stop.

I’ve created a puddle around me and when I look up with wet eyes, there are thousands of shadows echoing the words of my demise.

I looked around at all of them, how they all knew this fact about me before I even admitted it to myself. 

I don’t want this to be my truth.

I don’t want this to be my end.

I close my eyes tight, tight as they can be.

So tight I thought that maybe my eyes would start bleeding too.

With my hands balled into fists, I rose up onto my knees.

And I focused.

It took longer now to even get a trace of the source, but when I did, I didn’t let go.

I held on.

I held on and repeated the truth that I wanted to be true. The truth that I needed to be true.

“I can be fixed.

I can be fixed.

I can be fixed.”

The unknown wind grips my hair once again, its locks tickling my face.

My eyelashes twitch.

My brows narrow.

My mouth tenses in a tight line.

I urge the source to come through.

I try everything.

My body begins to shake.

My head starts to hurt.

My mouth forms the words that need to be said.

“I can be fixed and I will be whole again.”

Light exploded in all directions, blinding me with its bright dose of hope, possibility, and love.

The dust and darkness was swept away in an instant, fading into the now-clear space.

The shadows looked up, silent now. They accepted their defeat with frightening smiles as they faded away. They could finally escape this prison of emotion, they could be free of the evil they became.

I could finally see.

I could finally breathe.

At last, I could heal.

I could finally find a way to put myself back together again.