Diary Entry: October 5, 2024
The shadows whisper secrets,
heavy as the night,
each word a soft caress,
urging me closer to the edge.
Yet here I sit,
cradled by the weight of fear,
a fragile thread binding me
to the world that feels so distant.
I dream of silence,
a void where pain dissolves,
where every heartbeat is a ghost,
and the suffocating echo of existence fades.
But in that dark, sweet promise,
a flicker—
the flicker of what if?
What if the night is darker
than I can imagine?
I cling to the familiar ache,
the bitter taste of longing.
It’s a twisted comfort,
a haunting lullaby,
each note pulling me back
from the precipice.
What would they say?
What would it leave behind?
So I write,
scrawling words like blood on paper,
the ink a testament to my turmoil,
to the war waging in the silence.
I see the path before me,
an abyss calling sweetly,
but I am anchored here,
a marionette in a puppet’s dance,
caught between the urge to leap
and the fear of flight.
Maybe tomorrow,
I’ll find the courage in my bones,
but for now,
I’m just a soul too scared to surrender,
staring into the dark,
writing my truth,
and hoping it somehow saves me.
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