The pain never stops. It turns my heart cold. Memories consume my night of terrors, shattering hope and daunting my strength. I feel weak. All I want is one day of peace. A day I can say I’m okay. I fight the demons that the past has released upon me. They scratch at the gates of my soul, feeding on my sadness. Why do they still pursue me? I have given them everything. There is no more to take. I’m barely hanging on to anything I have left. I’m not sure how much more I can handle. This isn’t normal; how can the sadness burry every emotion and tower over all my cries for help. I thought I was strong enough to hide the feelings and shut out the darkness haunting me, stealing every moment of every breath. Clouding over every day like a sand storm of defeating sorrow. My lonely tears fill the ocean of heartache, overflowing with the overwhelming thoughts of ending it all. The easy way out, they say. If it’s so easy, then why do I stay. Maybe I’m a coward; that sounds about right. I lay in my bed fantasizing about the drink that helped me forget. Wistfully I miss it and still crave the numbness. I hate myself with every lonely tear of guilt and shame. Defeated by depression, cast away by redemption, and devoured by addiction. All I keep telling myself is, “you can make it just one more day.”



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