cracks in the stone that binds me

but I know they are from deep in my heart

from cracks deep in the stone that binds me tight,
these words crawl through.
I do not know what will come first,
or what will follow—
but I know they are from deep in my heart.

deep, deep in my heart,
there is a well.
you will never see this well,
and nor will anybody else,
because I am the only one who knows of its existence
and you do not exist.

and in this well,
this well that is deep, deep in my heart,
lay my fortunes, and my fears,
and all that is unholy.
this is where I hide my greatest treasures,
and my deepest sorrows,
and my worst anxieties,
and my truest self.

and it is only here that I'm weeping,
because my outside is encased in stone
that I made to protect myself
but soon turned against me.

I completed the casing anyway.

it is only broken in some spots because of little accidents—
little drops of hope leaking through with my tears
that burned my shell away.

of course,
I may as well not even be in it,
considering how lifeless I am.

as I kneel here,
before my fallen self,
I see no reason to continue but to continue.

there is no point in stopping the destruction.
there is no point in stopping the cycle.
there is no point in changing,
as it will only get worse.

eventually,
I know that these cracks in my stone will spread to my skin,
and I know that I should sooner die before letting anyone touch me,
and so I stay out here,
completely alone,
surrounded by destruction.

everything here was in such a careful balance
before I brought the whole world down,
and you'd think that'd all be gone now,
but if anything,
it's just the same.
it's a delicate balance between destruction and death,
but I know it well enough
that as I'm teetering on the edge,
I can look down without hesitance.
not without fear, but without hesitance.

but again,
my foolishness returns to me,
and I am left fantasizing of futures that will never be.

as I kneel here,
before my former self,
frozen in time by my own doing,
my heart blackens and wilts and scars more than it should ever have had to,
and I cannot even cry out in pain
as I have been silenced by the universe that I love so much.

it breathes with me deeply,
whispers through my cards to stop,
begs me to be quiet.

I didn't listen,
and so,
it had to shut me up,
and here I am now,
fallen.

I say that, because that's what I am:
fallen.

I try to say exactly what I mean
and be as understandable as possible.
I am failing,
as I spout utter nonsense.

tears spring to my eyes from the pain,
but none of them fall.
after all,
no water rolls off this stone—
nothing can touch it.
nothing can touch me.

I'm untouchable,
and it hurts so bad,
and it hurts to move,
and why am I even still here?

I have been living in the aftermath of defeat after defeat,
and even now, I still kneel here when I've finally snapped and pushed my tower down and burnt everything.

why would I stay in a place like this?
why am I doing this to myself?
this isn't a game.
why can't I see that this isn't a game?!
there's nothing to rely on,
there's nobody to lean on,
and there's nothing I can do but..
but stop myself.

I have to stop myself.

oh, gods, what am I doing?
I have to stop this.

oh, why did I let it go this far—
why did I let myself go this far?
I went too far,
and then I kept going,
and going,
and going,
and going.

what's wrong with me?
I'm sick if I thought this would be interesting to watch go down.
I must be.

dear gods,
what has happened to me?
what have I become?
is there even anything left to salvage?

I lift my lightless eyes to survey the damage I've caused to myself,
and find nothing but ash among the wreckage.
nothing from the tower is left.

. . . no.

. . . there is nothing left to salvage.

but I can't bear to leave it behind.