by Ioana Moldovan
I was still in that strange state of oblivion. I couldn't do anything about it, so I decided to just let it be. I felt comfortable, yet disturbed by the depersonalization I was experiencing.
Feeling so disconnected, feeling like a stranger in my own body. Breathing just to keep myself in balance, moving just to keep myself away from my empty-self.
All the little details disappeared. And there I was, alone - having to face my inner demons.
They were unexpectedly quiet, my demons, usually, they scream, scratch and bite underneath my skin; afterwards they crawl until they reach my innermost thoughts.
I knew I had to face them first in order to face you.
* * *
I struggled to open that beverage can because I felt like all of our memories were stuck in it - a simple can, resembling a tremendous box hidden in the depths of my heart.
That box though, it's the same for everyone, but filled with different undisclosed feelings - resentment, hatred, bewilderment, despair, fear, remorse, dismay, anxiety, grief and so on.
We all have it,
We all have it, that little box,
We all have it, that little box, where we hide our demons.
When I finally opened the can, I could envision all the memories bursting into darkness, much the same as ravens raging in the night.
I felt like time has stopped for a while and those few seconds felt infinite. It was that moment when I realized what I had to do:
raise the curtain,
get out of the shell,
take the mask off,
peel off my skin
up till I reach the passkey to my inner self.
It feels outrageous how a little box can produce so much damage to someone. I don't think I remember the person I was before this little box brought itself into my existence.
But one cannot change something that has its roots already deeply grounded.