The Beauty I Feared

Sometimes when it was very late at night, I could look up and be able to see the stars, or it would be quiet enough for me to hear a train whizzing past in the distance. It would always make me pause for a moment and think about how I wish I had that life. A life where I could see some new beautiful thing everyday. But as it stands now I am trapped. Jailed by my own self in a hellscape of my own making. It’s as if I am locked inside a prison cell, dreaming of escape so I can see the world. I tell myself the only thing between me and seeing the beauty that surrounds me is the prison cell. But what if I do escape. What comes next? More cells? More trials? Perhaps true beauty will always evade my sight. Will I never be able to run free through the rain? Watch the landscape go past through my train window? Perhaps I should give up hope. I have tried and tried to open this cell, but it will never budge. At least. That is what I tell myself. For deep down I know it is not locked. There are no more cells. I am here by my own will. Kept by fear. Fear that that all the beauty is out there. But I am simply blind to it.