Progress report + a poem · 6:14am
I have no poison for my bad nights. I don’t have cigarettes or razor blades. My mind’s got bets on how long till I snap like a stick. My armor’s thick but it’s worn down and heavy, and at this point it’s just making me more tired. I’ve fired all of my security detail because I can’t stand to let them see me in pain, even the rain being enough to hurt. I’m half insane and waning like the moon. But I don’t have a poison to make it easier.
And I’m out of time to ask for something. The merchants have no wares and no matter what affairs I claim they have nothing left. It is the same for my friends, who have already purchased their pills and knives, trading in pieces of their lives for a chance to not be in pain the whole time.
And for those who I try to help…
I am the poison.
So I'm having a really bad night tonight, and I'm feeling so broken right now that I'm actually in pain.
As far as writing goes, I'm a little stuck on Blind, and I've been trying to work on a different story that is based on an event that actually happened to me, so it's got a lot of sentimental priority. It's a short, 4-part story that involves TwiShy (as usual) and some very real drama. I'm going to warn you now it is extremely personal to me, so I won't be tolerant of any flak it may catch in any form.