I died a little bit today.
I keep getting worse.
Things keep getting harder.
It was easy for a while...
Easier.
My life is full of hills.
You'd think after a big incline there would be a great decline,
but there isn't much of a rest after my climb.
Just another fucking hill.
I don't want to keep climbing.
Giving up always seems so easy,
but there are always other things.
I..
I want to sleep.
I haven't been able to sleep.
I don't know if I cry or smile more.
I'm just tired.
I'm going back to bed now.
Back to sleep.
Goodnight.
Therapy.
It's to help the mind deal with your body and soul.
The abuse has torn my insides along with the outside.
Bringing up the past that was thought to be buried alive.
I don't want the medicine again, it's poisonous.
Bring me into a field and have me tear my soul apart until I can't breath anymore.
Have me feel the ecstasy of my brain bingeing on the memories.
The thoughts that rip through my agony like a silver bullet aimed right for my heart.
As it hits, my mind implodes. The Dust settles and the brain dies.
Therapy will cure the agony and erase the abuse.
Empty out all the trash put into my mind.
God help me.