Errant Thoughts and Stuff I Write

This is the Darkness

It's the anger. The metallic taste in your mouth when you feel the rage coursing through your veins. It's laughing as you power yourself to the top, where the high only lasts for a little while, but it's so worth it.

It's the pain, the feeling of being alive even though I'm dying. Even though everything that should be right is wrong. It's the thrill of life.

It's the agony and the betrayal. The bitter taste they leave in your mouth and the sick feeling in your stomach when they take away all that you had to share with them, because you thought you could trust them, but you were wrong, and you spend your nights crying yourself to sleep because all you ever did was love them and they destroyed everything, and the thoughts won't leave, and you die a little every time you see them.

And it's the darkness. The corruption, because you've been used so many, many times. You've had your heart ripped apart and sewn back together again, but the scars are weak spots, and all you can ever do is store it away, because no one listens, and you care too much to let your own problems hurt them. It's the wrongness of your soul when they just clean themselves up and leave you crumbling.

And it's so very, very terrible, but it all exists, and it is all right here, finally telling someone about it.

And hoping they're listening.