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Rated: 18+ · Other · Dark · #2268439
A point of view of someone who can't give up.
         It's been days with a heavy atmosphere. The days become longer with the night becoming an illusion. A ray of light is a sight of sorrow, as my mind begins to process my next movement. The weight of my broken mind weighs heavily upon me, I keep closing my eyes waiting to see if it's my last time. I realize that today's not the day, as I get up my body aches from putting it through hell; the aching pain takes my mind away from the deepen scars. As I move through the morning, I slowly begin to process my future as if I have control over my life. I drag my feet struggling to keep this mindset from already ruining a new day of chaos. Even with chaos happening around me, my eyes widen seeing every shadow, shadows with no face, without a care in the world. I sulk believing maybe I've also became other shadow wondering without a care, maybe it's just my mind. I continue my day working as functionable as possible; working with a broken mind is painful. I lost count of the darken thoughts that've come into my mind through the day, it's always the same phase "I don't want to be here" in different variations sometimes darker than others, but it's always the same, never different. My body has been rebuilt many times over and over and over, while my mind has broken into millions of pieces over and over again. The same process, the same feeling, but why does it feel so broken. I've lost my reality; I've lost my long nights that was my escape from the day; it's become a pitiful feeling knowing what awaits even with its uncertainties for a next day. My screams become tears, while my tears leave scars; no in reality I just see the past becoming the present I never see a change; the only broken scar I have is my mind.
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