Arc-Ax

A breeze however gentle blows me away. Chunks of who I was and who I want to be erode away. Sometimes between my fingers, when I try to hold on to them. Sometimes right off my skin, when my sadness makes them weak. How dense the fog is, to hide my dreams from me. How vile the wind is, to take them away from me. I'm a loose leaf in freefall, separated from life in the season. To melt away on the ground. And eventually be replaced.

I can't get it out. I can't scratch it out. I can't cut it out. I can't claw it out. I can't bleed it out. I can't wash it out. I can't pull it out. I can't push it out. I can't cry it out. I can't pluck it out. I can't shoot it out. I can't scream it out . I can't work it out. I can't talk it out. I can't punch it out. I can't even kick it out. I can't choke it down. I can't even keep it quiet. Seems all I can do, is just..wait it out.

There's a piece in me. Everytime I take one out, a piece of me comes out with it. There's a piece of shard in me. Glass, wood, the pain is universal. Marble, or quartz, it shreds all the same. With every word, every doubt, every failure cuts me further. A battlefield of scars darkens my vision. Watching a world live and thrive, while my world burns..Cuts me just as deep as any blade or shard. There's a shard in me. It's buried deep. One, two, six, or eight. They all add up. And they hurt me. They hurt me, so very much.