Death in its entirety or to live fully.
Wearied soul.
Eternal damnation.
Exhaustingly stuck.
Forever juxtaposed.
Invariably battling.
Conversely yearning.
For, either life or death would suffice.
Each morning comes with more despair than the previous one. It just keeps getting harder to get out of bed, it seems like one hell of a task to do anything that I'm supposed to do. I try painting a wry smile on my face, I try hiding my inner chaos under the darkest of my lipsticks. But honestly, it feels like too much of an effort - to breathe, to see, to hear, to smile, or to speak. All of it. There's an unwavering lump in my throat that makes it a difficult job to speak or even to breathe. I try swallowing that lump a thousand times a day, but my efforts go in vain. My chest heaves struggling for air. I feel like I have to fight to breathe. There's a weight on my chest, manifolds heavier than me. And I have forgotten how it feels to lift that weight off me, I have forgotten how to breathe or speak without constantly battling that lump in my throat. I have forgotten how to ask God for happiness and not death. All this maneuver will fade, the flesh will tear off and all that'll be left would be the skeletons in my closet.
Posted Oct 29, 2022, 9:34 AM UTC