Illysia's blog: "actual serious stuff"

I try to hide myself inside, Who I am, my senses, my pride. But I cannot stay here anymore, I need to scream and break down the door. I need to find myself in me, I need to recognize and breathe. I cannot feel me anywhere, I need to know myself and care. These scars these wrinkles and marks are mine, But where they come from I cannot find. When I talk this whisper comes out, When all I want to do is shout. I need to find myself in me, I need to recognize and breathe. I cannot feel me anywhere, I need to know myself and care.

I put on my clothes, to hide my shame. I put on my makeup, to mask who I am. I walk around, with an air that says I have a personality. I am not real, I am a product of products. A campaign for false identites. My confidence is fake, my shell is what you see. It is a costume, my makeup a mask. I am not who you think. Inside, I am small, curled in a corner scared. You judge, you expect, so I put on a show. The real me is lost within my fasad. I am noone, I am in the shadows. My pride is a lie, my laughter like harsh nails scraping on the truth. I wish I could be brave, I want to see the light.

As I opened the door to the cold, I saw a small, helpless figure cowering in the corner. It seemed to tremble and shake slightly as I came upon it's situation. It was surrounded, outnumbered by the brooding force of a foreign gang. I watched as the antagonists moved in unstable and and unbalanced towards their tiny prey. I quickly took action and grabbed the hom from the danger. I held his frail being in my hands for awhile, and glared at the others in shame. I then closed the vegetable door locking the apples in their drawer, closed the fridge and then ate the fragile kiwi.