17/08/16
Twisted.
That's the word that comes to mind when I think of me, a soul so dark that I can hardly see.
Light.
It tries to seep in and pull me out, but I push back, my body free falling further down into this night.
Darkness.
It consumes me, gripping around the edges, squeezing so tight and blurring my vision.
Voices.
They're all around, can you hear them? Is it me? Is it you?
Floating.
I'm free, can you see as the wind carries me?
Ocean.
There's a breeze, can you feel it as you drift out to sea.
Anchor.
I'm Trapped, being weighed down by this heavy peice of scrap.
Heartbeat.
I hear it, pounding in my ears, as the anchor pulls me lower, my fight against the water suddenly becoming slower.
Sinking.
It's over, the water has me now, I try to open my mouth to scream, but the water flows in stopping any kind of sound.
Drowning.
It's dark, the sunlight no longer hitting the depths of this water.
Shark.
Help me, I weren't supposed to go this way.
Sand.
I've hit bottom, I can feel it beneath my toes.
Ankle.
It's freed, the anchor no longer surrounds me.
Lungs.
Failing.
I cannot hold on.
The surface is too far away.
Help.
Can't breathe.
I need somebody to rescue me.
Vision.
It's blurry, my lungs are at full capacity.
The darkness has won, somebody else take over.
My soul has left me.
I am a body that lay at the bottom of the sea.
Alone forever, in the darkness of the ocean, the fish and the sharks eating at my flesh until I am nothing but bone scattered across the sand.
Banished to be in the dark, regretting that day I pushed away the light.
YOU ARE READING
This Is My Story.
Non-FictionThis is a collection of my thoughts from the past year or so... I used to publish them, but stipped as some became very personal, it became my diary, but I've since decided that I no longer care, because you can know everything about me, but you don...
