Existent

Grey

Those mountains you're carrying? You were supposed to climb them.                                                          There goes that word again. Supposed.

Obligation, that heavy feeling in your chest when you try to breathe.

 That Choking compulsion when you try to swallow. Heave.

Relationships, they were black and white. 

People, were not as transparent. People were shaded.

You figure that out when you were trying to save someone from destruction, yet you were the one drowning. Because Darling, in the end it turns out you have to be your own hero, everyone is always out trying to save themselves. And even if, by the slightest chance, they do try save you, there's something in it for them.

People don't love you for the reasons you want, everyone is greedy, hungry, there is something you can give them, and they desire that. 

And although I knew this, as a fact, I could've had  this information under love labeled "poison" and still would have drank, every, last drop. 

I'll do it again, and again, each time better than the last, forging my heartbreak, and then, when falling, hitting the ground twice as hard. Only to suffocate in my grief. 

Eventually a dull ache you cannot suppress, an everlasting grey.