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Literature
It's Just A Matter Of Time
Today is hard.
I slip; only a little.
But I slip.
Progress done.
All is gone.
The darkness summons.
So tempting, so bright.
The darkness lures me.
Trapped, trapped in limbo.
I cannot stop myself.
I slip, I grasp at straws.
Mustn't fall, mustn't drop.
Hanging at the edge of a crumbling precipice,
my rock crumbles to dust.
The intangible becomes nonexistent.
I want to scream.
But I know my voice will be the end of me.
Even a whisper will pierce my like a knife.
There can be no helping hand.
There can be no shoulder to cry on.
There can be no light at the end of this drop.
The monster overtook me;
I put my foot in the poo
All
773 deviations
A badass rollercoaster in hell
I can't bear this anymore. My whole body hurts. It even hurts me to type. I'm so sick of this. I'm tired. No one really gets it. Do I even get it? I get that I stil have a choice. To either die young, or dare to live. I don't want to die though. Dying is stupid. Nothing good comes out of death. Except from grief and questions and hell, presumably, for those who are left behind. Is presumably a word? I don't know. What do I even know? Last night I knew that I would be fine, that life has greater things coming for me. Now, I know that my body hurts. I know that I want to give up. I know that I deserve better, but it doesn't seem important. Beca
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Literature
It's Just A Matter Of Time
Today is hard.
I slip; only a little.
But I slip.
Progress done.
All is gone.
The darkness summons.
So tempting, so bright.
The darkness lures me.
Trapped, trapped in limbo.
I cannot stop myself.
I slip, I grasp at straws.
Mustn't fall, mustn't drop.
Hanging at the edge of a crumbling precipice,
my rock crumbles to dust.
The intangible becomes nonexistent.
I want to scream.
But I know my voice will be the end of me.
Even a whisper will pierce my like a knife.
There can be no helping hand.
There can be no shoulder to cry on.
There can be no light at the end of this drop.
The monster overtook me;
I put my foot in the poo
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57 deviations
