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Jun 2018
I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling wishing it wasn't there,
I hear the thick, heavy rain hammering on the roof,
It drowns the silence,
I hear nothing but the cold drops free falling from the sky,
I like the rain, I like to stand and let it wash over me,
Cleansing me, waking me up from my haze of darkness,
I like to feel cold bite my skin,
I feel awake, alive something that I haven’t felt in a while,
Something so cold shouldn't feel so gentle,
But it does,
It trickles through my hair onto my face, blending with tears as it goes.
It does not go deeper than the surface, it does not rid me of my inner self,
It does not wash away my inner demons that taunt me with dark thoughts,
Whispering at the back of my mind,
I’m held together with stitches that barely close the cuts,
Old and new blur into one, the rain does not heal them,
But burns them making them bleed,
Only I can see these cuts and deep they run,
No one notices I’m falling apart,
No one cares, I’m invisible no one knows who I am,
I hide in the dark that I’ve been banished to,
It seems comforting now,
I spent so long fighting it not wanting it to win,
But I’m tired and weak, I cannot fight anymore,
I beg for oblivion, for complete nothingness,
To feel no pain to be numb,
I give in, it caresses me ridding me of my fears and anguish,
I float away.
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