Maybe it was damp - I like it that way.
Maybe it was bright for darkness - I like it that way.
Maybe it seemed perfectly fine - I like it that way.
I suddenly couldn't breathe. Flashes of death clouded my vision. I wished I wouldn't create it all in my mind so easily.
The lifeless sense of nothing dragged me to hell again - a common journey I often dread. It stabbed my thigh, pierced my forearm, and punctured what I had left of my heart.
Then again, I noticed so much more clearly. The drips.. The small stream of heat stroked my flushed flesh. The bitterness of it gripped the corners of my quivering lips. It didn't stop, slow, or quicken when I tried to stop. Tightly shut lids couldn't will the moisture away.
I hopelessly wondered how it hit so hard. I hopelessly clung to the idealism of it disappearing. I hopelessly wished it would lighten. I hopelessly sobbed out emotions I forgot I felt.
Then again, I realized it couldn't end. My hell does weaken my psyche. But it strengthens my will.
I force it back again, to hide. I play as a good girl for a little longer. I conceal the darkness dwelling deep down. I put on a sweet smile, and laugh seemingly at jokes - but I pity the liveliness I may just very well be incapable of experiencing for the time being. I devote myself to keeping it away so I can find a way to fight for me back.
Maybe it was damp - I like it that way.
Maybe it was bright for darkness - I like it that way.
Maybe it seemed perfectly fine - I like it that way.
I can't let it break me down, bring me to my knees, tear my being to shreds. You can't either.
