\"I should go to bed\" I say,
\"And I don\'t just mean because I\'m tired, sadly.\"
An ironic chuckle escapes me
For can I not use that word after most of my sentences
that I write these days?
Like a permanent adverb affixed to my life,
A leech, drawing things far more vital than blood,
Perpetuating its effects throughout my existence,
my very thought of its presence furthering its sick purpose.
Stealing away hard earned happiness,
Replacing it with a dull, monochrome,
Life of cynicism.
The colours draining before my very eyes,
Even the knowledge of what\'s happening working against me,
Bringing an acceptance of the grey-scale vision and lack of vibrancy
in an existence that regardless is devoid of reasons to maintain positivity.
An overwhelming flood of negativity,
The pessimism washing over in a tide of thoughts actively crushing
any optimism wherever it may spring up,
Controlled by a lunar personification of hardships.
An ocean of endless reasons not to keep fighting,
Any desperate attempt to breathe
Swiftly being dragged beneath the surface,
Before a single cry for help can be made...