263rd Post

Another day of hell passes.

But this is not the end.

For this is hell week.

Or rather.
Hell month.

With more things to do.
No rest for the living.

Most weary.
I am.

But none of the shelters that i seek.
Can truly shelter me from the raging elements.

That constantly wears me down.
Ripping me to shreds.

Perhaps the only shelter i can find.
That will truly shelter me from the elements.
Will be a coffin.

A departure from the world of the living.
And entering the realm of the dead.

Dead from the constant crossing of silver on my wrists.

My arms.
Covered with the scars of the past.

No more blood left to bleed.
Numbed from the pain.

Eyes that once told a story.
Are now blank screens.

For a soul.
That no longer exists.