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I scratch, I scream, I yell, I pain, I suffer, I am diminished

My thoughts race without control,

From negative to negative, with the positives not sustaining a fluid thought long enough to counter the dark.

The simplest things, the most pleasurable things in the world,

Feel like torture.

I am tortured daily as I navigate this world that I see through despair.

I miss the beauty of the former me,

I miss the hope, passion and joy.

Those are but a memory in the feelings that have dominated my life,

But they are inexplicable,

They remain only personal.

No one else can understand my pain,

They can just hear about it.

But my pain is mine and I feel it in solitude.

I isolate myself,

There’s nothing worth sharing, doing, seeing.

I would rather medicate my pains away, but I must not.

The path to get rid of my pain the quickest,

is indeed the path toward pain the quickest.

But my pain is now, and the latter path is later.

But I must wait,

I must suffer with this pain,

the grim, the bleak, the desperate, the dark.

I long for the me I once knew.