I sink a little deeper each time, burying a jab to my heart.
I breathe in short breaths, like it’s my last, I’m coming down.
It hurts when I’m at my worst, blocking every word that lets me believe.
That the darkness is not behind me, it’s right in front, waiting.
To drag me to its bowels of hunger, stuffing its intensity with my rage.
Clawing has no use, it powers up the way I fight.
Maybe if I let it in, I will be close to the change.
I am transforming into the beast I am made to be, to survive the weakest me.
I have to let myself be in enough pain, in order to be away from misery.
