Dark Alleys

I looked for love in all the wrong places. Searched for significance among drifters. And at some point collected broken dreams by building sand castles and paper boats. Mistakes are valuable teachers. I learned to find my way out of a sad maze by learning to read the hieroglyphics on my skin. Scars are like treasure maps.

Neural Snag
Sep 1, 2018 · 2 min read

It is when we make the mistakes that threaten our being that we begin to value integrity. It is when we are broken that we begin to value wholeness. It’s when the deafening silence erode our sanity that we clamour for even just the subtle whisper of the wind.

The world did not betray me.

I betrayed myself, by digging deeper and deeper into the cold earth to find a hiding place, only to realize that the only niche down under is a misfitted, dark grave.

I betrayed myself by choosing to look for who I am in dark alleys, searching for my imprints on dirty gutters and broken windows. By sharing heat among the lost, and the ghosts of the night. By daring to touch fire and expecting not to get burned.

I orchestrated my parade, with flares and confetti made up of the torn pieces of my very own humanity.

My soul still shudders in remembrance.

Getting lost inside an untamed forest full of beasts and predators belonged now to a distant past I’d rather forget. The cold betrayals of trust long forgiven. But the memory of horror should be kept within easy reach, to be used just in case, as a blazing fire on a guiding torch.

Neural Snag
Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade