The Witching Hour…

Awoke! Sweaty and screaming at 3:43 and I can’t breathe. I fall to my knees. I cannot stop this. There’s just a few things I can’t unsee. Sometimes, the struggle is all I know to be real because, amongst a couple of other things, it is mostly what I feel

—–>The Witching Hour<—–

Most think this is just folklore. But, I assure it’s not. It is so much more. For the most part, there’s an absence of canonical existence and a strong presence of a maniacal persistence. There’s no use fighting it, it’s impervious to all types of resistance…

I look around, but they’re nowhere to be found, my SwitchBlade Angels! Everything is slowed, way, the, fuck, down. Time hasn’t stopped, it’s been bent, manipulated as my head and my heart are being mutilated…

I used to say I felt hollow, and I may just have. But, not today and it’s in pity I will not wallow, more like endure the wrath..

There can be no relaxation, only vexation as I’m full of pain, grief, and a guilt that’s quickly turning to shame. This is not all my fault, but for the most part, I am to blame. So, sit here and write I will as I play their game…

It’s mostly in my head, until they get a chance for my words to be read. They get mad and more come from under my bed! Sometimes, I feel as if I’d be better off dead because, it’s exhausting keeping these demons fed…

Today, I’m prepared for more bloodshed by the way of the words you just read….

I don’t write with ink, but in blood and I just filled my pen with some more of the uncut to write more words that’ll hit you right in the gut…

Thoughts, emotions, feelings, and memories are swirling about in my room, around my face. Some of which, I cannot erase. It’s loud, but I can hear the howling of the wind and a fire crackling in the background. Although, it can’t be found, all I can smell is burnt skin! The air, even though it’s heavy, is thin…

The more I push, the more they pull!I try to empty my head, but it remains full…

They’re winning! It’s now 5:15 and I’m starting to believe what want me to believe. Afraid to talk to anyone and have them running from me!

My head and my heart, my heart and my head used to shine like gold, but, inside the witching hour, I carry them around like lead and they’re becoming to heavy to hold…

—–>The Witching Hour<—–

Stay up. Stay human.

#inthegrip #whiteknuckles #builtnotbought

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