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The stress, the frustration, the anger.
All so invading, taking over every cell in my body,
Not letting me rise, not letting me move on
I try to run but my legs are caught up in the thorns, the vines, the stalks of depression, denial, disbelief. My eyes refusing to see, my ears refusing to hear, my heart refusing to feel, my scars refusing to heal, my throat refusing to let out a cry,  my body and soul refusing to die.

The confusion, the million questions, all of this for what? Was that single blurry glimpse of peace worth all the desperate war? Did the flesh, the skin peeling off my bones make up for it all? Did the shedded blood refill the sand in the hourglass? Were my shattered bones enough to bury the minute scratch on your diamond?


I want the satisfaction of revenge,
I want the pleasure of violence, I want to continue to fight till my last breath, I want bloodshed and battles. but truly, deep inside the million broken pieces of my glitching heart, all I wish for is an end, my bones are broken, my will is shattered, my blood is flowing, and my tears are dripping. My last ounce of energy is used to lift the sword again. I want to step into an eternal hibernation, become one with the grass, let the bugs and worms feast on my scarred dark, sinful flesh, Peace I want but peace I can't grant.
The end stays there longing for me to give it the touch of life. I repeat the cycle once again and go on and on provoking the same violence for now and for infinity.

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