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by Solus Apr 26, 2019
Sadness, depression /
It's so cold here. Wounded, face against the floor. I just want to close my eyes and disappear. Yet I watch as my hand traces stone, leaving a trail of blood.
Faces loom at the edge of twilight, all out of reach. They keep telling me to move, but soft bonds hold them back.
I hope when they all fade away, I can at long last cease my struggles.
I know I will never find that thing I sought as I've slowly been pushed down. I can't limp, I can't even crawl.
But it's hard to lie still. If I could, I would grow numb to all but the weight of failure. It could crush what I little I have left if I just let go.
I only need to remind myself that I'm condemned to just be remembered enough, never to become a chosen soul.
Now I wish only for darkness, for silence in my heart. Slowly, if it must. But an end craved in stone never the less.
If I can't move anymore, why does it still hurt?
The very last line is my favorite.