I've been through different levels of darkness.
Each one harder than the last.
And every time I wander,
a part of me is lost.
How much time has passed?
A year? A decade? Or just a minute?
It doesn't matter though.
Everything's the same.
When you've been with the darkness for so long,
you become one.
Slowly, painfully, you shed your human skin,
until what's left is the brittle bones.
But don't concern yourself.
With or without skin,
the place stays the same—
A vast nothingness where the eyes see none.
So what if you're only bones?
So what if you still carry the human skin we all used to love?
So what if you look deadlier than death?
No one sees.
Quite a captivating concept, isn't it?
To be somewhere you aren't judged.
A complete opposite of the majority's world
but it's not so pretty at all.
Have you ever felt so suffocated?
The hands closing in on your neck.
You try to remove them, but there's nothing,
only darkness.
How about the chains on your hands and feet?
Don't you feel trapped?
As the cold hands wander on your skin,
you try to move away but cannot.
Do you know what scares me the most?
It's when the life finally seeps out of me,
and what would be left is a shell of a man—
without any empathy, without any emotions.
I'm slowly reaching that part.
What comes next is still a mystery.
Maybe I'll slowly wither to ashes, but it won't matter
because this is darkness.
