"Where do I turn to, when there's no choice to make?

And how do I presume; when there's so much at stake?

I was so sure of it all..

But what if I need you in my darkest hour?

And what if it turns out there is no other?"

I'm afraid. I'm so afraid

of the monsters in my head.

how they've been consuming me since I can't even remember when

and it scares me even more,

to know that I'm alone in this battle I could never win.

It's always a constant choice between losing or giving in.

I'm barehanded, when they put their guns on my neck

My knuckles are weak, when all I could feel was their knives behind my back

I'm helpless, and scared, and alone

everything 

is 

black

Days like this, when I just want to quote Bukowski and let the feeling vanish into thin air; 

“I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.”