As I stare at these gray skies I tremble with the fear that one day again staying alive will be more painful than suicide but the chill in the air doesn't reach inside so I push on. The wind takes my hood and my breath but I remain thankful that the sun still shines on my horizon. I still don't stray fro this dim, the unfamiliar light strains my eyes. I'm happy to stay on the periphery, the only thing allowed to shine in this space is me but I still hide in this hoodie. You see, this depression and anxiety with a thing I think I'm supposed to call "happy," this this strange duality is a symptom of the things I let happen to me. Now I might wait for the skies to clear and the clouds in my mind to make way for the rays of radiance my true future wishes to show despite the scars in my mind and on mty heart. The day continues and I walk on, still unsure but somehow better from the pain. I don't think I can explain this smirk tugging at the corners of chapped lips but the distance offers its solace as I mutter the venom spit against me to make sure I never forget what built me, the true hand-hewn timbers of my being. The roof built of the scars left behind to finally shield me from the inconsistent rain. My heart beats along to the tap of the drops, each a beat in time that didn't beat me. So I'll walk, without an umbrella, towards a later end. The rain rusts my blade to let me know today is not the last for me. So on I go. Care to go with me?
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