/lit/ - Literature

You sometimes go through a rollercoaster of emotions constantly riding up and down the waves of life was the wind continues to push you down and try to drown.
I cried.
The tears were covered by the rain, to think everything was gone by a single maelstrom caused by nature and myself.
Jumping around from line to line and person to person to try to find an escape from the monotony of life only to end up at square one.
I was scared.
I am scared.
Scar.
Cut deep inside the soul only to constantly rupture due to the Newtons applied to old wound.
Opening and closing, bleeding and scabbing.
It hurt
It hurts
It hurts more than one could simply comprehend.
The feeling of being alone but not being alone, people disliking you for a reason that is unknown to yourself and people refuse to tell you the mistakes that need to be pereferated in order to be vanquished from the body that everyone calls a demon.
What a pain it is to be in the dark, where the creatures only grow in strength. Like a flower growing in the night time, a rose to be exact.
Cut
Cut
Cut
Snip Snip Snip
The thorns were attempted to be cut but no one dared touch the rose, very beautiful and stunning to watch from afar but due to the unknown that is the darkness around it.
There was no approaching.
And so was the encroaching threat of death, silent and slow to kill, never a painless loss.
Always a painful one.
Lest the thorns and vines are cleared.
The rose remains unscathed, ready to sit there.
Growing.
Awaiting for it.