Hide your sorrows in dark crevices where no one can find them, all the while hoping someone will follow you and set them on fire. But no one does. You are alone in your misery and that is the horrible truth. Monsters haunt us at night, when we are at our weakest, and the tears we shed fall on our graves. Frozen, petrified, we can’t budge for the fear of dying on the spot, so we let the voices engulf us until we’re suffocating. Our bodies keep changing but no one notices, it’s like the masks we wear really do hide everything. Yet, we are all aware of the battles raging in the depths of our souls, the brokenness, and the void in our hearts. We walk around aimlessly, like the ground is nothing more than a stage because it is. Our faces are confectioned the way everyone wants to see them. We are confectioned to please the wandering eye, and to everyone, that’s all we’ll ever be.

Day after day, becomes month after month until time stops existing. Grayness takes over our lives like a toxic crayon colouring our vision into nothingness. Our ambitions disappear as if they never existed and the world seems to become a grave of its own. Skeletons adorn the streets the way candles adorn a birthday cake. Our hearts become sore and the strain wears them out until they stop functioning the way they’re supposed to function, until we stop functioning the way we’re supposed to and all that’s left is the tick tick ticking of the clock and perpetual silence in our heads. Nothing matters. Nothing exists beyond the pain we know, beyond the sadness we know. Everything saddens us, everything angers us. We are defective, bones creaking and grinding into disrepair as we desperately gnaw on them to end our misery.