Sometimes it feels like it's only darkness, and the burden just can't be ignored anymore.
I sometimes wonder how to handle it, but finally the pain becomes a close friend that won't just go.
Thoughts are animals haunting and looking for a way to eat you.
The cloud they form numbs you and makes you ill to the point you're dead inside but your dreams are still made of hope.
That is killing me.
That is killing you.
And there is no way to stop it.
One day it will end, but maybe the end will be me.
