Solitary self-confinement can be an interesting experience. After all, there is little I can see, little I can eat, and much to be dreaded if I spend an entire day searching for earthworms. ‘Do’, ‘bring’, and the occasional ‘feed’ are thoughts I’ve become too familiar with. Thoughts I have learned to ignore. I live alone, though not for long, surrounded by the earth and nothing more.
Once in a while, I’ll approach the surface. Though I can only stay for several seconds, I like to feel the warmth. I like to see the golden rays of light hitting my nose. And I like to feel the wind against my face. I never come out completely, however. I reach a point at which my eyes will burn, and panic will overtake me. I withdraw once again - hiding underneath the surface - embraced by the cold, earthen hug of nothingness. It might not be comforting, nor are the surroundings gentle on my body - for here are rocks to scrape my skin, and a chill to reach my bones - and neither does the earth stay still above me as the sky surely would. But it is familiar. Being continuously pummeled by the falling earth is nothing to what will most likely devour me on the surface. I shall remain here, and give myself back to the earth.
So, as I lay still - as I lay here, my body thinning and depleting - I will hope to be forgotten, and to be forgiven by my ignored conviction. I apologize, for I wasn’t brave enough to come out into the light, and I was too afraid to let myself be seen by the predators. Could I have escaped their sight, or have escaped them had they spotted me? Perhaps it’s better not to ask myself these questions.
Earth, you’ll be my shelter from beauty. I will think of you as my marble prison. While there is nothing I long to do more than to live, I can’t do that here, not in a place where I can’t be myself. Be gentle with me, for though I look as though I’m meant to live within you, I feel (and therefore I have become) alienated. I have estranged myself inside you, and I will remain here comfortably until I draw my final breath.
I indeed have no means of letting mother and father know this. So I shall whisper and repeat, so that perchance this persistence will leave its mark on you much more effectively - mother, hope that my will succeeds where I have failed:
I love a male, mother. I love a male, father. I do not love him as I should. Not as a brother, or a father, or even a best friend, but as carnally as you once loved mother. Father, I will not apologize. Your wish has always been my command, father. And so I’ll lay alone for some time until my organs fail. I would much rather die than apologize, for that would be to lie to you, and I respect you too much to do so. Mother, I know you understand.
A great big thanks to Marty for editing! He is quite possibly the best editor in the world.
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