Face depression

I need to get out of this head, find a solice of sort in stead, of all this noise. They never seem to stop, the cold jitters fill me like bile in the throat before adrenaline forces all calm from my already highly agitated muscles. The tension is audible, can you hear the anguish the fear, are the screams as loud as in here?

I close my eyes, sometimes it’s a better place, the dark is calming there is no exposure. If there was some way to have this piece of my mind libotimised  remove the tyranny that floods the sane gates and bashes my hemispheres with doubtful hands of tease, scratching ever deeper. Nails erode paths of dismay into every surface, this terrible ache, what is your name, where do you sit and laugh at my anguish. If only you were real, person, beast, no matter I would take you on, man to man, with great fury I would break down the pillar you stand on, with total obliteration of your collective existence I’d remove you from the memory of this earth.

But you are not a solid form, you are not even a demon, you are a chemical reaction, a force stronger than I have power to take on. Slowly you rot away at me like cancer of the soul, decisive and with precision the last bits of what makes me, falls to dust and drifts away into the cold.

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