Some days come, blistered with painful argument and glistening with patches misery. These harsh moments dot the day, blocking out anything good or enjoyable hidden within the ebb of a routine. When the fireworks fade, and the matches lie cooling in a pool of tears, I retire to a silent corner.
After years of quarantine in this dingy hovel, I have constructed a phony fortress in the bleak atmosphere. From this imaginary castle my heart broods and my mind thrashes. Conflict ravages my flesh, spilling blood across my lungs. As I recall those horrid moments of argument and strife from this fictitious sanctuary, I am again singed with a vile heat as pain ripples along my skin and cracks my bones.
What kind of life is one like this, so damned and so contorted with agony? What beauty can I find sewn between the folds of this life? None. There is none. Beyond this home, perhaps, there is hope. But, beyond this melancholy castle of my mind lies a world trembling with power, and those mad enough to wield it. Their half smirks and crooked noses flash and bellow as I try to stand my ground and issue a reply. Their stained gums stew in grease, and their snarled tongues whip about as I cast down their words with calculated replies. But nothing happens. There is no realization. There is no change. There is only another curse, and another smack over the head.
Some days come, and I am not ready. I have not prepared myself for the next onslaught. I am still brittle from the battles the night before, yet, I must be ready to combat the new threats. Their eyes bulge with greed and confusion as I ready myself for another smothered day lost in the fray. It’s just another day, I remind myself. This is just another day. I was born for this. I was born for this, I echo in the misty halls of my mind. And yet, despite the ease of access I have to this knowledge, it remains tucked away. Try as I might, clawing away at the doors and cabinets, freeing up this simple truth is impossible.
I may have been born for this, to argue and fight, to contemplate and debate, but I did not choose this life. I was coerced into this line of work by pretty smiles and handsome faces. Promises that were rich and drenched with opportunity pushed me along until I was too far into this world. And now, try as I might and no matter what type of day comes next, I am to remain here, sequestered in this tiny, drab castle of the mind.