I speak of intrusive thoughts and feelings so deep i drown, of longing and despair and sorrows so sweet I get toothaches.
But no words could measure the loneliness of feeling your own skin. Pinching at bones and tearing at open wounds, wanting to go deeper into yourself.
Because I am more than everything I am, everything I have been and will be.
No matter how far into myself I fall. There is only that empty longing and searching for a home I cannot find.
I am the definition of grief In the shape of a person.
A heavy burden upon my own two shoulders.
I am Infinitite and chaos and a need to be anything but what I am.
A reflection of a monster that isn't really a monster. Just an unknown entity that holds just a little too much power to be seen as safe to those who fear the uncontrollable.
And yet I am still far too controlled...
Pacing the walls of a cage that nobody else can see. A lion in the place of a house cat. Staring longingly into the wild, to freedom and escape.
There is no freedom here.
Not within this skin. Not with these bones and this blood and this beating heart confined within my aching ribs.
YOU ARE READING
The diary of Seth Alexander
Non-Fictionas the title suggests, this is legit going to be my diary. and yes, most diaries are supposed to be secret, but I have always been an open book. I like to pretend to be mysterious, but the people around me will all tell you that I am am someone who...
