Slinging yourself into the empty abyss of questionable choices and bottomless pits of regret will get you nowhere but the places you don’t want to be. I should know, I found the bottom of that pit, I define it, and the reality of loneliness sets in as soon as you appear in the presence of your worst self. Drawn toward the darkness, the self sabotage that forces you into unhappiness through the unwillingness to trust in the universe, that is what creates this realm of pitch black. Crawling on hand and knee toward any sign of light will not lead you in the right direction, running head on into the darkness, allowing it to envelope the wholeness that is your essence and passing through it is your only hope. I’m on one knee, trying desperately to bring myself upright, yet the beings of this version of Hell hold me in place. I never expected my love to have his hand on my shoulders again, but by allowing imagination to take physical form may not always be the best idea, surely you can learn from my mistakes. Save yourself. I’ve dug my hole too deep to cross the threshold toward positive promises, at least for now.

I hold secrets within my soul, my broken, battered, riddled soul. My chest is in a constant state of constriction, lost deep in the Amazon, awaiting rescue from my own self-harm. Swimming upstream is a tiring exercise, beating against my body with the rapidity of a torrential downpour in late summer. All I can search for in this darkness is the light of all lights to bring forth an honorable presence within my heart, one that can save me from myself. When I close my eyes I can picture it, that close salvation of the many, and all I can see out of the black is you. You are the hope I hold, the opportunity of excellence in my life, and yet you are nothing I can grasp. You flutter away like a scrap of paper from the novel of my life, torn out by your own hand, ever wandering in the opposite direction. I force my eyes closed just to envision you standing beside me one moment more, keeping in mind that the ecstasy from this love will dissipate once I return to the surface of the River Styx down which I float, down which we are all forced in the end.