As much as the ink spills across my paper, so do my tears drop at them without permission.
I am tired of always having to listen to this visitor’s seemingly endless knocking on my door.
Here it comes again.
It doesn’t even give a hint when it is about to show up and destroy my inner self once more.
I remember opening the door for it for the first time. It almost killed me. It almost took my life away. It threw so many awful things at me that made me want to just lie on the cold floor and wait for my turn.
Some days seem sunny and bright. They make me think that it won’t show up any time soon. But it is always unpredictable.
When I thought that things are fine and under control, it starts to cloud up above me again.
It devours my peace. It removes my will. It takes away every bit of interest in me.
It brings forth guilt, extreme sadness, loneliness and self-pity.
Tell me how it will stop coming back.
Tell me when.
Tell me why it won’t.