Self-Control

My head is pounding with old and new thoughts and I want to be done but no matter what I do and what I think you're still there; you're always there just waiting until the next lonely thought and quiet night to creep out from the depths of my brain and swallow me whole with this depression that never truly goes away and I'm tired, tired, tired of this constant downfall that never brings any results. There's no way for me to escape the deep pit you've established in my very soul with your empty promises and lying tongue that always convinced me of something real, something more. Please God just bring me away from this constant ache in my chest, this constant knot in my throat that I've never managed to swallow, that sits there like a stone that has sunk to the bottom of the sea floor. I want more than anything to reach down of my own accord and grasp the heavy rock that brings me the utmost grief and fling it far away so it skims and flits across the water two, three, four times until it collapses somewhere else, anywhere else but at the bottom of my stomach. To have that control, to have that power over my own body again, would bring me relief only given after dying a thousand deaths and bringing back the light that was once there in my stages of ignorance and bliss from this evil that the world calls love.