Dark Stuff...

I am sick, both physically and mentally. I don't know how long it will take before I breakdown, before I explode. Everyone is gone, left me to deal for myself. Few people remember me. Almost none can remember my laughter. I never seem to laugh anymore. The thought brings about so much sorrow, so much pain. Is this what causes my anxiety? Is this all bottled up inside? Images that remain swirling in my head, feeding on my paranoia? But am I really paranoid?

My head throbs with pain and I fight to keep my eyes open. My head gets heavy, I cannot lift it up. I am falling, falling faster into sleep. But I fear the nightmares that threaten to come. I fear their memory. I fear their truth, I fear their lies. I fear... I can no longer fight them. my head falls on my chest, my eyes are sown shut. The dreams are coming. Nothing will stop them.
The grass was green. The sun was barely up. The air was fresh and cold. The sun seemed jaded. I could not feel its warmth. The were no crushing walls, no hollow spaces, just an endless field of green. I stood there silently, waiting patiently, but no one came. I was surprised at first, but the confusion slipped away. I watched the sky as it twisted before me. Images seemed to form. I waited again but still no one came. Then the sky was unable to stay still. I smiled. I stared at the sky for ages, watching the clouds shift and flee. When I looked down, the realization dawned on me. I was no long solid. I shifted in and out, becoming a cold, an image. I drifted away, I was blowing in the wind...

I am a fleeting memory... I cease to exist...