If it happens to you, scream

You close your eyes and it seems like a nightmare, a piece of death that makes your life dull. A dry but humid soil, which still keeps every collected tear that one day you let it fall. The throat full of guilt, gums full of orange blood, lips tired from so much squeezing, surrendered with so much anger. The hands no longer hold so much tremor, and the ears no longer work for you. It seems that you had been turned off, that you had enabled your legs, that they had pressed the button "omit" your good humor. Suddenly everything is winter, very cold. The coldest winter you ever thought could happen. And another twenty-four hours pass, and forty-eight now, and seventy-two ... And you face hell alone, because you know you must do it, "you deserve it," you think. Impotence dresses you in black, you hide on the beach. Until you fall asleep you cry, and you feel an incredible suffocation when you wake up. You hide from the world, because you think he wants to hide you. And suddenly it is night, you cover yourself up so no one sees you, no one sees a world full of scars. You do not sleep, it is impossible to sleep. Nightmares are very real and you are afraid of yourself. You become mistress of your own chaos, and still you do not care. "It's not long" you tell yourself. But that little never ends, it always goes more. It's never enough, not enough.