It really hurts when you are put down by somebody. You experience a sinking feeling that you are never going to be good enough. It will never be okay, as it will never be enough. A part deep inside you is crushed enough to say hollowly that why bother, why try? You already know the end.
But then there is another part in you that craves to be hopeful, yearning to try. It is like the fragilest of eggs, the shell cracking from the strain and the limbs oh-so-feeble that they might just wither at the slightest touch. Its reaching out, shielding it's eyes from the sunlight that repeatedly stabs in the irises and soon it is enveloped by darkness; engulfed so completely that now even fathoming an existence is taboo.
It is sad that it hurts so much. But you know you shouldn't. The cold has already crept over you, sneaking at you and taken you unawares. You don't want to be a cold, selfish ice sculpture; cruel and unyielding.
But when you're put down, you don't have a choice other than being crushed.
But then there is another part in you that craves to be hopeful, yearning to try. It is like the fragilest of eggs, the shell cracking from the strain and the limbs oh-so-feeble that they might just wither at the slightest touch. Its reaching out, shielding it's eyes from the sunlight that repeatedly stabs in the irises and soon it is enveloped by darkness; engulfed so completely that now even fathoming an existence is taboo.
It is sad that it hurts so much. But you know you shouldn't. The cold has already crept over you, sneaking at you and taken you unawares. You don't want to be a cold, selfish ice sculpture; cruel and unyielding.
But when you're put down, you don't have a choice other than being crushed.
posted from Bloggeroid
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