Alive

Some people struggle for it. I struggle to get away without guilt or lies. My melancholy, and my sickness pile up around me. I don't want to wake up a few hours from now just to face another day in this Hell. Unfortunately, I'm given little option. I don't have anything left but pain. Pain is my life. I can't think or will my way out of it. My pain doesn't work that way. All the therapy and medication in the world can't change me. Every day is the same as the next, just add heartache and the blindingly obvious inevitabilities of living the way I do. So much of me just wants to take the bottle of tranquilizers in front of me. Truth keeps me from it: that's the only redemption I can claim. Truth is easily squandered. I cling to as much of it as I can handle. If I promise to not take that ship in the bottle through the night, I won't. Hope fights mercy, and mercy always wins. However, no matter how obvious the only solution to my problems remains, I can't seek mercy on a broken promise.

You're my corner. Help me fight or save me from more damage. I can't see out of my amber eyes any more.