I’m falling through the trap door again.
For a brief moment, I was walking in the bright, green fields feeling each blade of grass between my toes.
The fresh wind blew on my back and the warmth of the sun radiated on my face.
I lifted my arms up to the sky ready to receive.
But, now I find myself falling, falling fast through this trap door.
I try to grab onto the thick vines that I feel beat across my body as its whipped from here to there.
For a moment, I muster up all my strength and beat this beast grabbing hold of it.
I open my eyes but there is only darkness around.
My heart pounds as I can’t figure out where I am.
But, then the reality hits me as the thistles begin to prick me once again, shedding my blood.
I try to scream.
But no one can hear me. No one can see me.
I am lost in the depths of this ground.
And I don’t even know where it is.
Feeling each prick makes me angry. So angry.
Why can’t I get free of this vine?
Why me? Where is everyone else? Why am I the only one here?
I try to remember the fields, the bright green grass.
The comfort of each cool blade.
I try to remember what it feels like to twirl around with the sun beating on my back.
But as I sit here, covered in the depths of this earth, with worms all around me and no sunlight in sight, I realize that those moments are only memories of the past.
Will I ever find my way out?
Should I stay here forever, holding on to this thick vine that is forever cutting into my skin each time I try harder to hold on?
Or should I let go? Falling, falling
I don’t know where the surface is.
I don’t know what it would feel like to land there.
But, I am already bruised, already bleeding, already crying out with no one to hear me.
Maybe-just maybe there would be light there.
A light that I could crawl too, scraping my way through to the hole with whats left of my frail body.
In all my filth, with all of my dirt.
With all of my blood and all of my pain.
Maybe the light would lead me to the fields again. To the green grass, the warm sun, the fresh wind.