Try sitting in a dark corner, trapped in a cage underwater, but the only thing that is actually drowning you are your own thoughts. That feeling has consumed me time after time. I took a pair of scissors to my own **** leg, just to feel something because I'm so lost in my trickling thoughts; I drowned. I've been at war with myself, and now at a cease-fire. But the war pushed on a year of using the wrong weapon, fighting until I picked up the rifle that said it doesn't last forever and I didn't have to pull the trigger. I sat silently in the corner, fighting myself. A tale as old as time. I keep living; I haven't touched the wrong weapon since, I'm alive and I use these words to breathe, breath through life, and push. I'm not the end.