I always hope not to fall into darkness, not to find myself again, alone, cold in that place in me, not to be visited by her ... but I always do. Like yesterday night.
I also detest moon changes: new, super, old , any kind of moon cycles - I utterly hate them: they always affect me, disrupt me, trow me cold into doubt. I can say, I sincerely detest the sight of any moon: I wish they would abandon earth forever, vanish and go spill theyre malycency cold beauty somewhere else. i
But yesterday, was brutal.
To brutal
I dyed
I killed myself
A total lost of control, hope, self - like a dark eraser, quickly coming and erasing all good that ever happened, stealing any good I ever owned,
stealing, stealing ...
stealing any little piece of life, of hope, of future, of purpose I ever managed to keep in whit me
leaving only detestfull black emptiness
a narrow place deep down everything in me
where nothing fits: not hope, any hope, any hope
its the nothingness, the black,
a small place where nothing can happen that is infinite, immense, overwhelming,
a small place that is so painfully BIG.
its a deep lonely place
where I am left to die, alone, cold, forgotten
as the night passes by
life happening all around me, outside me
outside me
oustside me,
visible but not reachable
and death
silently rooting in deep
inside me.
The hands moved
The fists closed
The legs quicked
I spilled hate inside me
The pain so intense,
No tears,
No scream,
No words,
No love
No understanding
Could contain.
And what a detestfull feeling
these of living dead,
waking up
in the morning
to the first days
tear.
Lost.
Cold.
Dead.
Alive.
