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May 2020
Searching my thoughts for anything of substance.
Looking over my shoulder, wondering why it always feels like there is a shadow looming.
A presence that never gets much closer but is always there.
I hear the whispers it spews, and sometimes I believe them.

A laugh comes into the back of my mind.
A solid feeling that is anything but joy.
But a laugh escapes nonetheless.
It is then answered with a tinge of anxiety threatening to never go away.

The search continues, the failures pile up.
Grasping for one thing that feels like a win.
Trying to turn my own thoughts into bullets to shoot this empty heart.
Load the gun, I'm going to war.

I'm extracting the child in me who has been lost.
I'm hunting shadows that lurk in the woods.
I'm targeting the very nature of my soul.
Shoot to **** or nothing at all.

I'm pointing the gun and resting my finger on the trigger.
I'm ready to pull it.
I'm ready to find out if these bullets are enough to win this fight.
I take a step forward...BANG...Thump...

There's a light shining down on me and I keep seeing the faces of those I loved.
I hear crying and laughter.
Violens play sad songs and the sad songs are said to be a celebration of the soul.
Then I feel like I am being lowered down, and the world goes dark once more.

Tomorrow I'll try again.
Tomorrow I'll check my left and right before stepping forward.
But how can there be a tomorrow?
I feel a tap on my shoulder...

My skin turns into 60 grit sandpaper.
I hold my breath and I begin to feel cold.
The tap becomes a hand resting on my body.
My spine tingles and I feel breath in my ear.

The whisper is closer than ever before.
Who knew a shadow could touch you.
Who knew hope could turn so sour.
If I get out of this; tomorrow, I will put my time to better use.
Written by
Matthew Sabella
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