An absolute determination to live and protect
Perhaps, this one will be a bit more of a normal story
A simple effect
Inside a dormitory
Sometimes, symbolic. Sometimes, quite literal
But the sense of dread hangs from us all when faced with an illness
Unable to leave his room, the door felt littoral
Diagnosed from birth, he lived in sadness
It is normal for biological and genetic problems to pass down to the offspring
But, mental conditions are rare indeed. Especially in a controlled environment
He was often found drawing. Sometimes, alone. In the dark. Dancing
It was a sort of cope mechanism. A way of hiding detriment
Inside his sketchbook, portraits of himself
As days went on, he painted himself differently each time
Sometimes happy, sometimes sad. Sometimes without a sense of oneself
But every time he did, he resembled a mime
Muted. Only able to play with invisible things
Then draw reality
Having no vocal cords, your hands become your strings
But walls can not see. They can only feel your plea
His twentieth birthday was approaching
Old enough to see his mother
The door opened not with food, but with a letter. Grabbing it felt encroaching
The contents were dismal. A birthday present in form of knowledge from another
The man was waiting outside the facility
He stepped out of there, knowing death became delimited
Time started moving again with grieve and a struggle for stability
A sketchbook dream became unlimited
YOU ARE READING
Memory Fragments
FantasyWARNING: CONTAINS VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. Sooner or later, we all crumble beneath our fears. It's up to us to recall what makes us human and stand strong against adversity. Memories, shattered and scattered throughout our lives, come to us one by one.
