Down

I’m down. And I feel like im never going to get up. I’m not scared. Just worried. I’m here enough to feel the darkness encompassing me. Pulling me into the abyss to which I’ll never climb out. Mom is worried, but she doesn’t hover. Which is good. But I feel the darkness pulling at the edges if my very soul. Shadows taking my hands and pulling me into them. Caressing my face. Brushing my cheek ever so gently. Comfort. I don’t want to give in. But its something I’m used to. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to hurt. I just want peace. The peace that the darkness will promise me a million times more. I feel myself falling deeper. Water above my head. Gasping one last breath as I sink into it. Enveloped by sweet peace. Sinking into a peaceful slumber. Maybe I just need sleep…

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About Preslee

I am diagnosed with Bipolar 2 Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Panic and Anxiety disorders, and PTSD. I write about my own personal experiences and thoughts.

Posted on January 23, 2014, in Mental Health, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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