I'm at the edge of darkness, clouded by my past regrets. If I hold on any longer I risk losing what I love the most.

Being lonely.

When I step over this line, my mind is no longer a prisoner, something I can't control. I'm held captive but captivated by the thoughts that I possess.

Black and white images of the past and present sit on top of vague plateaus that I can barely translate.

I rip at the seams of my withheld aggression. Wondering when it will get the best of my best intentions.