I fight them back whether or not I try. Emotions suppressed by lie after lie. Self-deceit, mainly. The want is to let them out. To be free from the contained pressure. It’s toxic, less like oxygen, but more like carbon. Pint up, the closed container is shook and expands to its limits. Representative of someone young never allowed to be a child. Curiosity punished by ignorance leading to a path of destructive addiction. Not being able to let out what is felt leads to wanting to feel nothing, instead. Not all who wander are lost. Some of us are just hoping we’re never found.
By Jack Thomas