Gold Tears

Sometimes she thinks to herself that it is a beautiful world out there. Not necessarily in what people do, or what people say, but it is beautiful because through its darkness there will always be light.

Mostly as she leans back, slightly inclined to be supported by the bathroom sink, she tends to let her mind wonder. Wonder to the beauty of it all. The nature of being a 25 year old fully blossomed woman, drenched in sadistic differential thoughts. On such days it’s different though. Particularly this fateful day, she cut a little deeper. The need to feel burning pain that comes along with the bleeding always overtook her sensible fragility. She was going to win this battle, not the war. In this life, as she came to realize you win some, the demons win the rest. And not just any demons to be clear! Those that deem themselves best friends, to ride or die. Demons that guide her to put down the razor, only to open the door to the kitchen for her to pick up the knife! That was her reality.

Why? She never came to understand.

How could she hide from them if at all they are all she saw hiding in her crystal clear musky brown eyes when she look in the mirror?

Every night, they chose a reason to make her stay awake. As if to torment her to count her sins, to bleed them out, one after the other, to cleanse her inner self. Inner beauty was her best chance at survival within her own body. Swearing to cease every morning, and to brood over again and again the beautiful pain they bestowed upon her.

A rite of passage, the pastor said, to fight one’s own demons. She pushed on, with nothing left to lie out for other’s to have a glimpse of. Deeply seated pain she fought to cut it out, to bleed it slowly out of her. The body could only take as much, but not that particular day. The only savior left was her knife. It went deep enough. Although they didn’t trust her anymore, alone, they couldn’t be her guardian angel in the bathroom.

Her guardian angel watched her, tears of gold waiting, patiently for her final breathes, to trickle down. A sign from the gods that indeed it was a precious life! In complete disregard of her reality, she ran away in her mind. Empty inside, her anchor had been cut and fell. No one lent their ears to hear her insecurities, her lacking abilities for the society. In those moments she didn’t exists, just her demons. And that day she smiled knowing to well of the battle looming inside, coming out to her.

She faced it all. And nothing mattered anymore. It was getting beautifully worse for her. Finally, embracing them all! Why pluck a flower when you could let it grow and become a garden inside? She thought wishfully for her demons.

Colder exhales, deeper inhales, ice cold breathes. She closed her eyes gracefully. To her, she won. A battle! No one saw. In a field she was too familiar with. Her own mind!

But her world, just paused, as the door swung wide open, distant sirens of an ambulance rushing through the streets brought her fallen anchor slowly. Everything quieted, as if they had been shut out! Pushed out of existence by her victory!

Her heavy eyelids slowly gave way to her musky eyes. To a light brighter than her darkness, ready for her next battle that she hoped wouldn’t be too soon…

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About menjustpause

Your Averagely Depressed Guy

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