Sometimes...

As my burdens engulf me, there is only one thing I desire. There is only one thing I crave. Through the suffocation of emotions and transformation of my tenderness to weakness, I see my ticket out in the distance.

Sometimes I like to imagine I am close enough to touch my saving grace, though I could never kid myself. I’m stuck. The tears are ropes around my arms and legs, preventing me from moving towards recovery. The thoughts are iron bars, locking me into a cage with deadly weapons aiming at my temples.

Although, sometimes... Just sometimes... I like to think of freedom. It can be consoling to think of a place where your problems are just pigments of imagination.

However, if I look at the light too long, I lose sight of where I am and need to use my ropes to guide me back home.

Sometimes I think of freedom. Sometimes I crave freedom. Sometimes I beg for freedom.

Every time I crave freedom, I freefall deeper into sorrow.