people always say you’re not alone but that isn't true. They aren't;t going to fight the demons inside your head with you. They aren’t going to be able to wake up and come over in the middle of the night just because the scissors on your desk re glimmering in the moonlight and the skin on your wrists are itching. and when they do, they demand answers in fully formed sentences when the only things you can give them are the shrieks in your lungs and the blood in your veins. when you rip your own heart from your chest, they will ask why you never sought help, when they couldn’t even be bothered to keep their lunch commitments or learn your middle name. there is no one in this town who can stop the throttle of fear and anxiety, and the people who can are scattered and I've already asked for too much already. I didn't even know the demon had returned until the person who was keeping it at bay left. how silly to expect another person to fight the dragon guarding your tower, nevermind he took the sword. nevermind you were never taught to use a weapon in the first place. you are meant to be the hero, the strong one, to save your self in the end. maybe the dragon will simply claw through your burning veins and drain you of the little fight you have left.
this is already hell. there is nothing left after this.
