Everyone always says, “the bubble keeps away the trouble.”

I never really thought much of it when I was younger, but I wish I did. Then maybe I’d try to find a way out sooner. Maybe I’d believe in myself a bit more.

Silly me, Selfidh me.

I’m not that naive, I can still see the terror and hatred surrounding the outside of my bubble,

But I’m not dense either for I see the beauty and love all around to.

Maybe my bubbles gotten dirty or I’m seeing things that once were but, I’d like to see for myself.

Silly me, selfish me.

The bubble is all I’ve known, yes it’s kept me safe, yes it grants the power to let me have all my heart can materialistically desire, yes there is love in here, so then why does my heart crave the outside?

What am I looking for that I can’t buy in here? That I can’t seem to find.

I’m in here out of love, I’m in here because they say it’ll keep me safe, they say I’m lucky, for everyone wishes they could have a bubble of their own.

Silly me, selfish me.

Why is it so hard for me to just exsist in the first place?

I want to love being alive, I want to love myself with my disabilities.

I love this bubble but I don’t think I like it in here it makes my brain terribly crowded.

That’s silly though isn’t it?

Selfish even, for I am loved here. Why would I want to leave to a world that I know will despise me? Only the bubble could ever hold me for it was made to for they made it so cozy.

Silly me, selfish me.

The bubble is good, it’s warm, it’s love, it’s safe. It’s everybody’s dream.

Yet when I look up at the round ceiling that allows me to see the sky I find myself imagining that I’m out, that I’m feeling the cool breeze rush through my hair. That my skin is gently being held by the warm grass.

It’s a secret piece of gold I hang on too.

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder, are they keeping me safe from the workd? Or the workd safe from me?

Thats silly!

I can’t contribute anything useful to the world.

Silly me, selfish me.

With a tongue that speaks far to rapidly, words that are nothing but meaningless flights of fancy.

With my eyes that can not see very well but still manage to find beauty. Yet never see the pity or judgement in others faces when things need to be to close.

With a mind that overflows like the sea with questions and wishings to understand and learn, but gets burned out pretty easily.

With a heart and mind that still doesn’t quite understand that maybe, just maybe the world wasn’t meant for me, But a body thst is so liminal it can’t decide whether it wants to be fully broken or repaired to remind me.

Silly me, selfish me.

A star exploded for me to get here! There must be a reason for it. A reason to the liminaty of my existence. There must be!

One things for certain though, I will know one day, and when I get out of this bubble I hope to never look back.

Silly me, selfish me.

Until then I’ll sit here and dream.

Just

A

Little

While

Longer.