~~Just a little note: I orginally wrote this on June 11.~~
It is a constant battle, one I thought would cease to exist at some point
Within my heart the light shines bright
Filled with love and smiles, laughter and life
But it is my soul that continues to be flooded
Starting in the light, being dragged into the dark
Standing at the edge
Looking down in the depths of emptiness
I see nothing and feel only the bitter cold of loneliness
My arms hang at my side and my chin lays on my chest
On my back I feel the warmth of the light but before me pulls the cold of the dark
I hear only the squeaking sound of my own brain churning
My hands icy cold, feeling lost, alone, and a disappointment to so many, especially to me
I have no desire to go over the edge, but the depths of the abyss will not leave me be
My hands become warm and wet
A liquid flows down my hands, thick and warm
No where else does it exist as if it starts right there only to flow
Dripping from my fingertips
No energy to look down
No voice to cry for help
The liquid flows quickly, covering my hands drops falling into the dark abyss
A coolness brushes my wrists, much like it does when a brisk wind caresses a new wound
Frozen in place, not able to budge
Lost and alone standing at the edge
