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~~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
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