you know that feeling when you still hear the shouting behind a closed door?
it is that feeling.
i am forcing the trapdoor to close, but i still can hear the demon’s voice, sneering and mocking, feel its tantalizing touch near my pulsating nerves, tracing a line on my neck. i am afraid, quivering and trying to drown it out with earplugs but it doesn’t work anymore. they’re lying (lying?) to me, telling me that everyone has left, left me behind, i’m abandoned and nobody cares, nobody is here for you anymore because you didn’t care enough and the guilt is fucking overflowing, i hate the demons, i can’t stand the person standing in the mirror, i hate that i am not brave enough to accept being alone, i hate this trapdoor, i hate that i cannot appreciate the simple things that supposed to make me happy, but i have to stay alive, for people, for myself, this was not when i envisioned and i know its just going to go downhill from here if i don’t steer properly and lose control.
i’m sorry i’m sorry i don’t know what i can offer, this captain is going down with the ship