(I'm not really this angsty irl I swear)
Out of the fog stretches a hand
From where, unclear
Its fingers are long and slender and
beckoning
They ask me to join it
To step into the fog and let it swallow me whole
Slough off my skin
Discard my bones
Pluck my eyes from my skull and let them fall to the dirt
Discard myself
Become one with the all consuming nothingness
The rolling tendrils of mist that grip my skin
But they are comforting in the way that death is
It is absolution
Small teardrops of crimson
Unfurl themselves
Like young roses in spring
Painting strokes of red
That flow
In rivulets
Down, down, down
And splatter on the bathroom tile
I laugh too much
And cry too much
And always seem to think
Too little
Or too much
The voids cold embraced
Vibrated through my bones
And though I deigned to push back
All was left were groans
Why should I try to fight so hard
When sleep is easy found
To rest my head and block out
The gnawing clawing sound
Yet a faint voice mutters
This won't serve you in the end
It's better to live in misery
Than in falsehoods and pretends
Every fiber of flesh
Is woven through
Intertwine in the way
Only those who have forsaken hope
Can do
The ocean sat upon the hill
Her breaths coming short and fast
Tears that flowed in rivulets
Down soft cheeks
Till they pooled into rivers
at her feet
She mourned
For there was no one like her
No one to share her burden
Of being so big
Yet still smaller than the moon
So opulent
Yet dull levied to the sun
So free
Yet encumbered in comparison
to the winds whipping tendrils
She could not see the world
For she was part of it