42.

I did not want to see. Sight has a way of painting pictures prettier than what they are supposed to be. It has a way of making people fall both in and out of love. A way used to judge, consider and destroy.

Day in and day out, I am clouded in darkness. In a space cold and narrow, there is no difference between the floor and the ceiling. These walls of marble are smooth and impossible to the touch. With eyes closed there were some things I could no longer understand.

Reach out, you said. To whom? Who can I reach while I’m asphyxiating in this pit, an endless tunnel of despair? In my desperation I am a flower on the wall, stuck paper-thin and immobile. Though I try, no one will hear these screams.

I am a piece of coal, indistinct, burning, burning burning burning

And gone.

I reach out at last for someone, anyone, to prove that I’m not alone. But the scariest thing isn’t taking the first step. It’s taking it and confirming your biggest fears: that there is no one, only void and this is how I will go. How do I move on from here, to know that all that remains is empty?

This is what you made me do.

Just like a dandelion in the wind, my mind’s been blown into a thousand pieces.

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