What does it mean? To be unshackled, to breathe freely without the crushing of heavy chains wound tightly around one’s shoulders and chest?

When I speak of my affliction, you look away lest you be perceived as someone who communes with liars.

Commune. Communion. That concept is foreign to me. My interactions are limited to the few spirits who understand that my affliction isn’t something that can be seen.

Free. Freedom. You breathe it in, indulge in your greedy gulps without ever knowing the pain of its loss, of its absence.

Shackled. Manacled. I am bound, tethered to something that im told is a part of me, but I feel no familiarity with.

It sinks its claws into everything I hope and dream for, tearing and cutting until only shards are left and I’ve learned not to let my imagination fool me.

I will never know true freedom. My mind won’t let me.