Pain is surreal, pain makes us think about all the inconsistencies in life. Pain exists, lives and breathes through our own hopes and dreams.

This is not a pretty, uplifting, inspirational post. You have been warned.

I have been living in a world of pain. So much that I hardly remember how it feels to live and breathe without it. It gets to you, like tongue in cheek, like flesh and bone, like blade and skin. Pain drives the day away to nighttime.

Pain corrodes the very existence it feeds upon, revealing nothing more than the washed away emptiness of the soul.

Tonight the moon won’t shine, all stars are gone and I am lost in my inner dark woods, with no guide to walk me through. Tonight I have to face this, loss, hurt, the devastating grip of a skeletal hand squeezing my heart, still beating inside my chest.

But not tonight. I have no strength left, the embers in my chest have turned to ice, and in my inability to act I drown, melt, merge with the earth. This is reality now. This is my world. This is my pain.

Pain will not let you rest though… It wants out, and in, time and time again, showing you that you cannot really live without it. Pain is your demanding mistress, your master, your relentless lover.

Empty. Feels empty without. Without pain. Without you. And it hurts.

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