The nightMature

Sometimes the night can't hide everything. Even dragging a pen to paper is hard. It wasn't always this hard. My inspiration seems to have been drained since then. I don't know how- but maybe I do. Not so sure I see the when. But maybe I know that, too. I know when I met him, it was all near dead. My "bad" emotions were overriding everything. I was numb to all bu those feeling and thoughts. I was slowly losing the battle with myself, awful as that sounds. I was giving up. I had drifted away from everyone, no-one noticing. Just slowly locking myself away, further, and further. I secluded myself from the things I'd loved to do, be around, see. Essentially, I'd turned myself into nothing. Days slowly dragging by, each hour and minute the same.

The End

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