Can you tell me, world?
Can you tell me what I'm supposed to do,
when the entirety of everything all at once,
comes down upon me?
Can you take some sympathy and condone my fragility?
If murder, then kill me,
If torment, then spare me.
I absolutely despise the flesh and bone and soul and pain that constitutes my chemistry.
What happens when the "winds of change" die out?
I am left with the howl that the wind
once concealed inside,
and let cry out when it's fury intense.
Do you know how long I've endured?
This torture is ancient.
Complex and razor sharp.
Ever time I am reminded of this, it rips through my core
Cuts through my lungs
Eats away at my sanity.
Insanity doesn't seem too insane sometimes.
My fears consume me, and resides within me.
Anxiety is well known, and sleepless nights endured.
Everything is crashing down.
Everything burns now.
My head is filled with tragedy.
And my lungs with the air of words never spoken.
This soul is never quiet, never rests.
Everything feels colder, sharper, more dangerous to me.
Never is an awful familiar word.
I'm fighting a losing battle.
In which surrender is also death.
White flags are useless now,
Because the shadows have fallen.
And the moon has gone black.
