Chains and Thorns
I used to hate being chained up.
I used to be free and alive. It wasn't a lie to me. Everything seemed real. But now I can't tell the difference between fiction and reality. I used to hate it. The chains that dragged me to the floor, refusing movement. They were heavy, reminding me of all the lies and insults I told myself.
And I would struggle. I'd fight and scream. Desperatly trying to claw my way back to those innocent days. The days of happy smiles and sunny days. Pigtails and lemonade spills. Those innocent days that defined me as a carefree girl.
I don't believe that anymore. I stopped fighting when the chains I hated so much turned into black thorns. Wide branches as thick as your arm, coiling around you and wrapping around your throat and eyes. They would draw blood, causing pain to me. It reminded me which realm was real.
The thorns prevented me from moving without pain. I hated this, too. I hated it all. Then something broke inside my head. I used to think that a broken item couldn't be broken any more than it already was. But I was wrong to an extent. It can't be broken more...
But it also cannot be fixed. No matter what.
So what did I do after realizing this? Nothing. I embraced my thorns and my chians. I loved them. Chains kept me pinned in the real world, the world that I can breathe and live in. That is why I love my chains. But my thorns? I love them too. They keep everyone out. They keep all my thoughts and emotions locked up inside, refusing to allow them to leave and make themselves known.
My thorns keep others away. They don't apporch a bush that can hurt them. So I stay alone and silent. I can't speak or even breathe sometimes. But it feels safer like this than without them. What I used to hate and fight against, I now depend on so much that without my thorns and chains I can't function. I'm so open and revealing without them that I break down. I claw them back to me when they attemp to leave me.
You can't break something that's already broken. But you cannot fix it either.