Mentally Wrecked

I could go on and on aborting the rough indulgence of the brain, body, mind, soul, sanity and the art of the heart Nothing zips in how my mental state can have its way around each and every day. What we call “High and lows” I can experience them or expect them to take its theme in any moment now in which ever manner. Living with Mental disorder is exhausting. By the end of the day I'm ridiculously tired From overthinking in fighting anxieties, intrusive thoughts and suicide ideations. When the sun finally sets, I'm hanging by a thread. Hoping and wishing that tommorow will be less atrocious than this...only to wake up to the same inch every single day I can’t even imagine how calm could a brain be The pledge of chaos to be altered before night time it’s already being procrastinated by my being The content of the urge to die constantly The rawness essence how my mental state doesn’t wait for a start or an end but the fact that the rest of my life this weight that it has over me takes its inherent mark it’s like a white sheet marked with a dark dot in the middle no matter how you cut the paper in order to remove the dark dot it only carries a final fate to shred it instead Being alive is like being asked to give up your house that you built and lived in it for years and asked to live in it for the sake of safe keepings The humane and sorrowful need to be heard and understood (inevitable vulnerability) Harvesting to cope and actually have a defence mechanisms just to make my breathing bearable Although we all going to die one day a daily dose of allurement of death is needed Torn in between dark and grey it all looks the same The battered hope that someday…eventually…maybe things might get better? It doesn’t get better than this Ashleigh Ngoqo