Shriveled at a corner, cocooned in a disgraceful fashion. I was drowning, losing my breath to the bottom, heaving frantically for air. But, I stopped, I lost hope to abject submission, it was helpless, it was dead.

I hugged myself closer to me, holding unto the last pieces of what I could scavenge from the annihilation of myself. My choice led me into this state of drowning, I could not even recognise myself from my very own reflection, I saw someone who was drained of life itself, a hollowed soul solely living in an empty shell.

Clinging to the gossamer hope of living on, I was suffocating in my choices, the bad ones, choking on them. I grabbed myself from time to time, just to make sure I was still, real. This run had been a bad one for me, I had not been sick so many times in such a short span of time, I had not been so unproductive, I had not hit rock bottom in a long time, until now, breaking even the rock bottom, revealing the most hideous side of me.

Time is ticking out. I am looking for a way out.

But, I am here for way too long. I need to get up and get the fuck of here. This is not where I belong, I should aim higher, I should be at a more invigorating place- a place that breaths life, not breeds death. The people around me had given me a lot of leeway, me included. I shall not take that for granted anymore, I need to breakfree from this shit, this fuckery.

I need to stand up, face the box, tear it apart and walk away from this fucking spot. I am sick and tired of being here, even another second, I am afraid that I will shred myself into unrecognisable pieces.

Enough of this, I am done with this. Anything happens again, fuck it, I am not going to make any stupid decisions again. If I do, wake me the fuck up.

Craving for more? Down below:
Burned Out
Shoot For The Stars

Published by zeckrombryan

Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

7 thoughts on “Boxed.

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