This is the insecurity, the hate, the fear, and the regrets that I'm feeling altogether. The result from the days of being fine. Today, I'm fragile. Vulnerable. Near desolation. This is me crumbling and struggling to breathe again. My game of pretense has come to an abrupt end. And that no matter how hard I try to function again as I was, I couldn't. For it is this darkness I will always succumb to with my demons as my company.
And I wonder, will I be able to make it this time?
xviii: “reverence”
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ataraxis
Poetryataraxis n. - the absence of mental stress or anxiety. Book Cover by: @itsjhelaaa Most Impressive Ranking •Poetry #46 out of 10.4k Stories
