battling depression is exhausting, especially when you can't get any sleep. i'm knocking on the notted wood of unconsciousness and it won't let me in. carefull. carefull. the wind turns the keys and leaves and the circadas don't stop thier whimpering, wavering the still in decibles of shrillness..nestled between the rain ripe leaves they murmur thier screams cutting the night open like a knife, crystaline the stars wave in twinkle corners exhale and they all fall down like a connect four game of tumbling checker pieces..sinking into the invisible line of horizon.
on these wicked nights i turn my body like a cork in the tossing sea of sheets. me. alone with the dark mocking all my thoughts. shake your head yes and no, yes and no, stuck in never ending now of terror..deep breathing leaves my chest and stomach sore with its labored rhythm, hope that any minute i will fall out of the fight to and of sleep, the terror.. the terror of darkness..alone..
no sympathy from the world, with day masks of smiles and ignorance. you can't stop this madness when it becomes a part of you, it gets into your blood like poisen, tainting everything good and pure and real. steals the precious moments of joy and paints them rolling stone black... i'm pissed at all this. i hate feeling this way and I hate that no one understands. nothing makes me feel normal anymore.
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