october 25

on the bad days, it's not a silent plea, but a powerful longing. an urge taking over my soul, my body; a button pressed so all the fight will come out of me. nothing left but the desire to give in. to collapse under pressure, to surrender to the weight of everything. to abandon the act of trying. we want to have no more worries, we want to cry no more tears. we ask to be asked for nothing further.

on the worst days, i feel i will make the decision myself. i imagine the drop, the fall from a building, the slice of the knife, the rush of the blood. how the consciousness leaves. things i will never know unless i try. things that on any other day, i would never contemplate. how painful the letting go, how quick the forgetting.

sometimes sadness is neither fullness nor emptiness. sometimes it hurts, like a monster clawing at you, turns you inside out. it gives way to despair, explodes into something else entirely.

sometimes your whole soul is an open wound. raw, and red, and bleeding. this is how we forget the good days. sometimes all you are aware of is how painful it is to breathe.