Just Random Stuff

Four Walls.

These four walls keeping me trapped. Forcing me to surround myself with these people. Forcing me to be reminded of these horrible restrictions laid down by these people.
Everyday, is a constant reminder, a constant battle, a constant minute that I have to try and remind myself that people do love me, all the while being surrounded by judgmental assholes.
How do I survive in there four walls, while not having the support, the love, the time that I need. They say they care, but when it comes to it, no one truly cares, not in these four walls.
How have I not disappeared yet. From all this hate, this disapproval, this disgust. Have am I not dead yet. If they knew the real reason why I would be gone, they wouldn't care that much. If they knew, everything would be fine. I would be out of their hair. No longer their problem.

Four walls. Trapping me in. Stopping me from breathing. Stopping me from being myself. Hurting me. Killing me. Suffocating me. Slowly, slowly. The pain goes away. Not like smoke out a pipe. It's like waiting for paint to dry, or grass to grow. The pains easing though. Because of one person. Death. Death hides themselves away, waiting to pounce on their next victim, waiting for the opportunity to gain someone else's life.

Death has pounced on me. Death is suffocating me. Death is hurting me, killing me. It's fine. They say. It will all be over soon. You don't have to worry about the pain. I'm taking it away. Come with me, I can help you. Don't worry. I believe it's words, with promises of no more pain, of not being trapped in these four walls. It's calming voice driving me more and more towards it. I'm following, going, going, like I'm about to drive over the edge of a cliff, down into the rushing waters of no more pain, no more suffering.

And finally. I'm free. I'm free from all pain, all worry, all problems. I see no problem being here.
Except. I can't see the only people who loved me for me. I can't talk to them. Until, they're pounced unto by death. Until they hear their calming, relieving words, soft tones, secure promises.
These people do not fall into Death's trap. And I am left in my own sea of ever-growing blackness. Content with being alone in the world, with not even my thoughts to join me.

Where-ever I go though, I'm still stuck in these Four Walls. The same Four Walls this all started out with.

AN: I'm not crying you're crying.