This is the end

Slipping away

I lie in the night and watch the shadows dance. As a single tear escapes my eye I know that I have lost.

I have lost all strength to carry on. The pain has become unbearable.

I can't fight it anymore. I can feel it taking over. It runs through my veins like a quick working poison.

It has become too much. I am only one person. The pain is like a thousand soldiers all with their guns drawn and here I lie waving the white flag.

I give in, I surrender, you win - The pain wins.

Slowly, and as if I have no control I sit up and in one quick motion I slice through the skin, my skin.

I go back to watching the shadows dance, but now instead of a tear escaping my eye, a smile is escaping my lips.

The anger. I can feel it boiling deep down inside of me.

I can feel it trying to escape.

I can usually control it but tonight it's controlling me.

I watch as my hands create fists.

Why must this haunt me? Why won't it go away?

It's boiling closer to the top now, it's no longer buried.

I can feel it slowly starting to seep out, trying so hard to escape.

But I'm trying even harder to push it back down.

My fists slowly unclench and for a second there I thought that I had regained control,

but then unwillingly,

My eyes dart toward the toolbox sitting atop the bench.

Knowing that there are blades in there sharp enough to release even the worst of angers.

I feel so helpless as one hand is fighting to create a fist, the other fighting to reach a blade.

When did I get so weak?

How could I let this happen?

This is not what I want, but at the same time, I want it so bad.

I tried to help you.

I couldn't help you.

I tried to make you better, to make it go away.

I couldn't.

Maybe I deserve this.

Maybe this is fate.

Maybe that's why it's so hard to control, Maybe this is how it's supposed to end?

I feel a single tear roll off my cheek.

Looking down at my hands I instantly realise that in my moment of weakness the anger that was once burning inside of me has tonight surfaced.

One hand clenching a blade, the other clenching a fist.

Which hand do I choose?

Do I even have a choice?

This ends here, this ends tonight.

But which way is it going to go.......

- Emilie Meyer