From the Soul

You force yourself to get up for the morning

Hoping for a good day

Wanting to become a better person

After a few words of encouragement

You recognize the pleasant but somewhat unfamiliar feeling

Of Happiness

You savor it

Knowing it won't last long

The moment you walk through those familiar doors

You automatically transform into that fake, shiny and perfect person you feel forced to be

Wasting precious energy

on people

and patience

You finish your day exhausted

Left with the very little amount of precious strength you managed to save

You turn out the lights

and sink into a sea of darkness

Feeling peaceful for a moment

But swiftly turning sour as you start to realize how tired you really are

Tired of being broken

Tired of being lied to

Tired of being hurt, stepped on and hated

Tired of life

You slowly back into that corner of your mind you've spent countless hours in

and glance around the room

As every object in sight fades into nothing but a sketchy outline

Then the world falls silent

Anticipating your next move

The only sound you are able to hear is not made by a mortal

It's a voice

one you may consider supernatural

Cunning, eerie, and tremendously persuasive

effortlessly turning echoes of comforting words

into horrible lies bent on destruction

but you believe them

soon feeling the sting of fresh wounds

and the warmth of crimson blood trickling over your skin

as your body stops trembling from rage

and your mind floods with guilt

You slip on something to hide your pain

and with every sting the cloth delivers

you scold yourself for giving in

your eyes fill with tears you're too weak to cry

you bury yourself in your bed sheets

lying awake, overthinking

regretting everything

You drift off,

no dreams,

no visions

just quiet darkness

you savor yet another thing that wont last

you'll wake again

you'll rise feeling brave

knowing the cycle repeats

viciously,

efficiently,

and endlessly