I move in silence so no one can hear the unspoken words that are blaring in my head. I smile my brightest so no one can see the raging river of tears that are dying to flow. I hold my head up high so no one sees the shame that envelopes me. I am trapped in a box that I have willed myself to enter. I shut the world out, I wanted them to think this is how I want things. I thought the box could be a home but it did not have the warmth and comfort of home. It was cold and dark and damp inside, I thought I could thrive in that dark pit I have stayed in, I thought my life, my warmth, will keep me alive but the walls just kept on closing in and I was choking. I knew that if I did not find a way out, I will suffer an inevitable death, my flame blown out and I will stay obscured from the colorful world I once knew.
So I crawled out.
Now that I am in the open fields I shiver to the newness of things, I have been in the dark too long. The fear of the unknown at times makes me want to turn back and I keep on asking myself if I should have stayed, if I have given it all the warmth and life I had would that box have turned into a home. I think about it for a brief while and I realize no, it was never a home for there was no love nor warmth nor laughter. I look at the box now and it is not inviting me as before. All I see are the worn walls of the damp carton stained with tears and mud and rain. I sigh because I built all my dreams and hopes around it, I thought my waking hours will be spent there but I was never meant to stay there. A minute more and I could have lost the tiny spark inside of me.
So I stand outside trying to rekindle the little spark. I walk around pretending my flame is aglow but all I have is a little dwindling light, hoping no one will notice until my spirit is ignited again enough to allow me to live with fervent hope again.