The Painted World

Okay. So I have some major trust issues. Anything all too clichéd is always a trigger for my panic button. If it’s too perfect, I’ll question it a million times, before accepting it can be mine. I believe the hurdles that I’ve come across in life are ones that I’ve built up for myself. I’ve worn a strong exterior for a long time. It doesn’t fool anyone. It confuses the crap out of me though. I forget now, are you another painted face? Or had I learnt to put my trust in you? Another broken radio on static repeat.

What compels people to put on masks? Why these walls, these barriers? I’ve recently discovered that all this time I’d been building a wall around me. One brick at a time. It’s almost six feet tall. If I want to, I can touch you, hold you, wrap my arms around you. Only if I want to. But you give me one reason, and I’ll build it stronger and stronger to keep you out. I wear a mask. One that’s been on for so long, it’s almost as if it’s infused itself onto my skin making it impossible to take off. Alas, I am, but a hypocrite. Who knows a state of mind better, then one who dwells in it? Who knows a world better, then one who exists in it?

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About Sara I Saqib

A mummy blogger inspired by her little bundle of joy to share her first time experiences of motherhood.
This entry was posted in Weird and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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