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She Doesn't Know a Thing

by Vanessa E-Daniel 12 months ago in performance poetry
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Vanessa E-Daniel

All her life, she dreamt the dreams that kept her alive. She knew that one day, everything would precisely fall into place and she would be happy. She would no longer feel trapped, she would no longer feel alone. Everything she ever wanted would finally be her own.

Through thick and thin, hot and mild, all her dreams stayed with her. She thought of them with tears and rage, with blood and with pain, they were right by her side to keep reminding her of the sun while it rained.

They made her smile while she cried and it gave her hope through the night, she was terrified, but she kept holding onto the feelings that she would survive.

Life did not get easier, the sun would not shine. The dreams grew dimmer and dimmer, as though, they too, were tired and weary, unable to hold onto themselves so that she could breathe.

As the years went by, she grew more and more fragile, her dreams becoming tethered and unable to stop the dark from seeping in. She began to sink, darkness closing in all around her, her future seemingly coming to an end before it ever was hers.

She had no one to turn to, no where to go. She was truly on her own and that’s possibly what hurt her the most.

The days were too long and the nights wouldn’t last. As she looked in the mirror, she never knew who it was looking back. That was not her face, those were not her eyes. There wasn’t a smile in sight, not even the hint of one.

She stared for moments on end, hoping to come to some kind of realization, find some kind of hope, but that was all lost.

She could no longer coax herself to believe, she had no strength left to tell herself that it would all be okay, in fact, she was certain it wouldn’t.

She gradually became another person, what she disliked became her desires and that which she held dear would no longer be found by her.

She’s living her life now without a thought to the past, but she isn’t happy. She smiles, but it’s just a picture, she laughs, but it’s only five-seconds long. She poses with him and she poses with her, but they don’t even know who she is, they probably wouldn’t even like her.

At home, she fills the atmosphere with music and other sounds. It is never quiet where she is. She is afraid of what awaits her in the silence; she’s afraid to face herself.

If you ask her, she’ll say she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know why she gave up, she doesn’t know why she switched dreams. She doesn’t know what it was that finally pushed her over the edge. She doesn’t know a thing.

All she knows is what she sees. All she feels is what touches her skin.

There’s nothing else to her. She’s like a slate wiped clean, if you peer inside, it’s all empty, but there’s a door in the corner. A door sealed shut.

If it’s ever pried open, you’ll find what once was, lying right there. It’ll all come pouring through, it’ll fill her once more and set things right, everything will be as it should for her.

She doesn’t know this though, she lives as though what’s behind the door is cursed. She thinks that it’s much too late to achieve in her life.

She doesn’t know.

She doesn’t know that what she thought was the end was actually her beginning.

She doesn’t know a thing.

performance poetry

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Vanessa E-Daniel

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