My mind drifts to the edge’s of a dangerous place and I hold onto the edge with my nails breaking off bloody raw as the weight of a phantom reality pulls me down, hard.
As I close my eyes I can feel the blade in my hand dancing on my flesh numb like death has already come and I scream that I am nothing, nothing but trouble.
Only my words are not heard because I have no air, my breath stolen by my clinging cries and I wonder if the last face I see is yours ->the one I despise.
I hear the crackle of thunder jolt the air as lightening turns the dark to light and in it I hear silent whispers, some of the weight lifts and I know that I am safe. One more day. One more time. The Saviour saves and by His grace I am here, I have time.