Sinking Heart

I sit there doing my work, 

Barely so,

While my heart sinks,

It's a strange situation,

Trying to outrun the darkness but it resides in my bones and my skin .

I keep on writing and my heart keeps sinking lower,

And sinking,

And sinking,

And sinking,

Until I feel it in my stomach,

Until there's a weight on my chest,

Until I feel the darkness build up inside me ,

Unbearably so,

Until that is all I know.

And suddenly I can't continue doing my work,

It feels a burden too heavy for me to carry,

Introspection feels like a curse,

For i am aware that my work is actually not that hard,

Yet I sit here with incomplete pages,

Under that knowledge I am crushed and buried.

I sit surrounded by piles of paper and what I believe is my cowardice,

Others seem to be able to do it with ease,

But not me,

I lie there like a defected product in haunted factories.

" I'm a failure" ,

A thought repeating like a chant in a cult, 

Until it becomes a core belief of mine,

What do you do when you're so crippled; yet not even an adult?

My heart is sinking,

How do I save it?

How do I save myself?

Help me please,

Help me get out of the quicksand I'm stuck in,

How long will I pretend to be alive in these cemeteries?

Some days, the darkness gets to me ,

And I have no choice but to let myself bleed onto the paper,

Until the paper turns black,

Yet I never seem to run out of the darkness,

No matter what I do.