It

A feeling of lonliness, a curtain of darkness, a gateway into a never-ending abyss. This is a living, breathing sickness. A disease, that feeds on my own insecurities and personal catastrophies. A weight that suffocates my very existence out of the world. It's not death, but it's something I have to live with.

It's something I can't run from, something that will catch up no matter where I hide or how far I run. It will always be there. It's a shadow, a reflection of me and my life. My faults, my mistakes, my guilts. It holds onto them keeping me in that dark and endless nightmare.

Oh it enjoys carresing my pain, then squeezing it until I pass out, it enjoys every cut, bruise, and injury I sustain. It grows and strengthens with every pang of guilt, every cut of pain, every blood drop spilt. It swallows me and engulfs me until I am... nothing.

It plays sadistic games where I am the game piece and it plays on and on enjoying every yell that pleads for it just to leave. It enjoys the pain that I feel. It clings to me like a parasite, never leaving. It speaks no words of comfort and support, but speaks of hatred and homocide.

It is the inner evil that all people must battle. But I feel like I am losing a hopeless battle that I was never meant to win. Yet I keep battleling it, not giving in. Letting it win is not tolerable to me. It controls everything I say and do, I can't let it do that. Oh but it does. It has power and strength over me. I am weak and it is powerful, too powerful.
-It makes the end not me.

by MrNobody
posted on 04/14/2007