XVIII - The chaos in the vase
I screamed, I was loud, no one could hear me. I felt little sorrounded by giants, my weak voice was fading away, with the hope of keeping everything around my gravity.
I'm walking on a thin thread, holding an heavy vase on top of my head.
The joy to restart in front of me, the mistakes behind. An empty room where I look at my emotions. The more I walked, the more the vase pushed on my head.
My negativities are cradling me, in a melancholic waltz. I have the chaos in the vase, banging louder each moment.
Suddenly I stumbled watching my burden shattering in a million pieces. That burden I deeply hated and took care of either, as a toxic relationship destroys a soul.
The walk came to an end, now I have to pick up every sharply piece from the ruins of that room.
A subtle smile is kissing my pale face once again, the same face that cried warm tears.
The calm showed up in my soul like a rainbow paints the valley after the rain.
Through the crowd, I found the vase again, the burden I saw breaking. After all, that vase is me, and I would never shatter myself again.