Locked In A Room: Day 4


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Cherry, dressing in a lovely little black dress.
Pretty Cherry.
Punished in a cold room and crying, for herself and for every other Cherry all over the world. Cherry is full of hope and sparkling with the strength of her dreams, a girl with short hair and a head full of wonders.
She always smiles, you’d find it hard to believe that now Cherry’s cry alone in a cold room wearing that lovely little black dress.
Cherry is not a one person, though this tells the story of a single individual, Cherry’s every young woman being punished by a society so cruel they only see her as a product.

Now.
Once upon a time, little Cherry draw a door. A colorful door on the wall, her mama-dementor said its a sin to dream of happiness and to wish for freedom. Why? Because she’s a girl. Her mama-dementor put a lock on her door for a very long time and Cherry stayed inside keeping books for friends.

Then one day Cherry -powered by her little bubble of words- demanded freedom, and again was called a sinner, she got locked again. Then her bubble couldn’t watch in silence anymore, the words bubble helped her by biting the lock on her door so she could go out and see that happiness is not a sin. Cherry went out that day and came back stronger, the truth finally came to light and she knew that happiness is possible.

She went out the next day, the day after and in every opportunity Cherry went out to learn and grow stronger. Her fun journeys to the outside world were tough but that gave her strength unlike the locked door.

One day Cherry came back to find mama-dementor standing by the open door and she hit Cherry, Cherry is not young now and she tried to defend herself. I am not a sinner is what she said and that made mama-dementor feel that she’s losing control so with the help of other dementors, they locked Cherry in the cold lonely room and Cherry cried for so long. Cherry will keep cry but she is not a sinner and she will fight for herself and every other Cherry crying alone too.

This is a true story, it happens in this world every day, it may not be close to you and the other Cherry girls are not speaking loudly but its true, its painful and it happens everyday.

Cherry like all the other girls around her are all considered products, personal property that every abusive parent have birthright of ownership over. Cherry and all the other Cherry girls understand that happiness and freedom are no sin and they are no sinners, Cherry will keep fighting till the end because happiness and freedom are no sin.

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My heavenly prison.


Never thought ’bout being there some place you won’t get ever out, even if you might do its a so long to come true you might be dead might be mad when it comes by???
I never thought, never imagined I’ll be there; that place where it’s all looking the same.
Walls, days, minutes, every breathe every move, all going around & goes back around in a god only knows how long.
I look at it as a prison some people think its heaven, they call me ungrateful, they call me selfish, they see just the face I’ve worn every day no wonder it looks so ugly now.

I tried to escape, I did try hard but that’s not something for free.

They will ask me to pay, to see the world with colors, they make me pay to breathe, even the smile will cost more if it’s true the one people will actually believe. Not enough they want me to pay again, paying to write paying to see the sun light.

I thought listen to what the rocks say & be happy how things go, never my heart-felt that bad never felt so low.

Again, they call me blind, they call me empty; again, they ugliness of what they created breaks me.

I’d smile, looking like a child seeing a flower for the first time.

I’d stand, fight like soldier already  knowing the taste of iron & blood.

I’d mute, listen to the sound of beauty listen to a tear breaking through fear.

That’s a story of a life, not just my life.

Might be you or them, might be tomorrow might be then.

Losing & winning, I can’t tell the difference.

But who am I to say, I’m just a weird bored & trying to play.

tHE mIRROR


I’m not a great writer but I love writing, its something that means freedom to my soul, myself and my mind. Its what make a better person of me in front of myself. Its what get my inside out. Its what my voice can’t say. Its what my heart cry for. Its my dream in my hands. That’s a part of what writing means to me. Once before my father died he told me behind every paper and every pen, every word and every book, their is a mind and a heart. When I cry when I smile when I’m happy when I’m sad when I’m thinking when I’m working I take my pen and write and write and write…. But once after my fathers death the world dissolved around me and suddenly everything changed to non-meaning to me even writing, I still write but all without a real me in it, without the heart and mind. And once again life give me a chance by giving me him to love, but it seems like I start loving my pain more than myself, instead of going forward I go back, until I reached the worst and I fall. I found myself in a bad mirror whatever I try to do to see myself in it, it turns to more ugly picture of me until it is black so you can’t see your self any more then you start feeling pain. And god, you can die of the pain without even knowing ……………………..> to be continued