Upon sitting still and hearing the world quietly, I notice something brooding within me. There’s a sense of darkness residing in me, a slow creeping of unwanted emotions. You may see me as someone so gentle and quiet, but I see myself as a vessel to contain my darkness. For you don’t know how much I’m capable of even when it means that I will lose it all. Besides my softness, I can allow my voice to reach the ceiling and form it into a knife and watch the lacerations form. Besides my gentleness, I can allow my hands to squeeze and strike, without holding back and I will watch the bruises blossom and the tears forming to nourish the wounds. Besides my neatness, I can allow just a swift movement of my hand to obliterate everything in sight, the symphony of glass shattering accompanied with my vocal stabbings.
You watch my movements that appear so calculating and you wonder if I’m actually capable of what I claim. Could I lash out in an instant? Could I just remain calm? I’ve allowed you to see my darkness side and you remain still, watching me carefully. It appears that I’ve left you paranoid, but rest assured I rest my thoughts on something lighter even though they have a tendency to drift away when unsupervised. It’s just a routine in my day, a slight break in my mentality that appears besides myself.