For the ones in the middle

We are stuck in this limbo of uncertainty. Unsure of our next steps, stuck in a place between comfort and discomfort. Posibilities are endless but we are taught that there is only one route- some of us dare to stand up (at least within the walls of our minds) and say, “No,”.

We want to believe but we can’t help but feel oppressed by the words held against us like chains tied onto a tree of knowledge; a tree that teaches you to open up your mind, widen your vision and see beyond what is presented to you point-blank.

How can we obey when we don’t see the true beauty of your words, how can we agree when we don’t speak your language?

When we see the light, is it magic or is it just photons, speeding through vacuum into the lenses in your eyes, processed as electrical signals to your brain which in turn process it

What do we see when we see them, how do we feel when we realise we are just imposters, masquerading through the world, neither here nor there, our minds, our bodies, every fiber of our beings yelling at us to just pick. a. side.

How do you cut your heart open and let the love bleed red, let the passion of your body stain the white sheets your mother laid out, clean, for you to sleep on?

How do we do this and not feel guilty
How do we do this and know where we are going
How do we see when our eyes are closed, covered,
gone?

Where do we go from here?

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