i asked myself how my writings have become more and more deep not to add the have surely improved.

when i write i find myself in a place nobody cares to wander, joyful yet a dark place, a distant deep inside me with shackles that are bound to me no matter where i hide, the cold metal that chills my body as i attempt to free myself, is this twisted? am i sane?

remember people lol these are writings i am okay!

how can you be afraid of pain? when you witnessed all you could bare and almost became numb? maybe i am just over sensitive, maybe my battle is larger in the spirit world, a battle not between life and material work but between the devil that seeks to destroy me and remove my hope, is it possible to be devoured from the inside? when you are completely together on the outside .

i am not weak maybe confused, different perhaps