it whispered in his ear, "you do not belong here, you are all alone." he squeezed his eyes shut hoping the darkness would dissipate and let him go, but the darkness stayed. it held his hand tight and often wrapped itself around his body in a shroud of sorrow and angst and utter hopelessness. a cloak he could not shed. often it whispered of self doubt, it made the things that should bring joy into nothingness, mind numbing nothingness. sometimes it would shout out loud, pointing at the people telling him that they did not love or even like him, that they tolerated him and talked behind his back. he would analyse in detail every single word he spoke, checking over and over again if he had said something wrong. if what he spoke was correct, had he said too much? had he spoken not enough? over and over the darkness would swirl his thought like a witch hunched over a cauldron of confusion and wickedness. toxic and poisonous his musing would slowly kill his senses bit by bit. it squeezed his mind, strangled his memories, muddled his thoughts and covered his eyes so he could not see a way out. so afraid and scared, he could not breathe. the unseeable darkness manifested into physical reality. a phantom pain that did not rest. with confusion there are no physical diagnoses, no cuts or bruises or blood that flows out. nothing is wrong, nothing is wrong, it is not real. it whispers, "the moment you were born, you began the forward motion to death." it pushed and pulled in every direction, "why do you live? what is the reason of your existence?" and he could not reply. he could not think of any answer. "are you happy? do you feel happy?" his mind far away with his body trapped to the ground. he does not know why he exists. tormented by this abyss, this chasm he could get no relief. he sluggishly moved forward day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, second by second. stuck in the mud, it wanting to swallow him, and him wanting it to do so. only then could he find some kind of peace. so tired, and no answers. so empty so cold, the warmth snuffed out by the shadows of pain. he wants to shut it all out, he longs for the quiet. the person you see is made up of lies because the truth is he knows how to lie. how to pretend to be normal, how to be better than normal. he can be kind and be smiles but he cries alone at his broken mind. distorted and twisted. hide, hide, hide it all. don't speak of the darkness because the time you did, no one understood. they don't have the thick fog of darkness hovering over them, they don't feel it choking them. your pain confuses them. hiding, hiding, hiding, so weary and so tired. he burrows deeper under his bed covers, shielding himself from the outside world, to his never ending reality. he tried so hard to fight his demons but his strength is waning. that slither of rest he has when he closes his eyes, where the darkness does not linger nor follow, to sleep, to sleep, in eternal slumber. good night.
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