The silence that hangs in the house is like a loaded gun with a faulty trigger ---
if you press the wrong part, you’re dead
not physically, but emotionally.
Dread crawls inside every crevice of your body, munching on every last piece of happiness it can find.
When it’s done, your hands shake and your breath speeds up.
Your old “friend” darkness perches on your shoulder like some demented pet bird.
As the days wear on, the bird morphs into a python.
The python winds itself around your body and squeezes, determined to drain every last drop of life out of you.
As you’re gasping for air, you wonder if fighting this is even worth it.
It always seems to come back to this so what’s the point of trying to escape it?
Adrenaline comes rushing through, knocking the dark back for a second.
You manage to get a hand free and reach out for someone, anyone who’s told you they care
but no one’s there and all you can do is sink further into the dark.