"... not in control."

You feel weak. You cannot control the pain, you have no control of your own life. You just let some unvisible cord pull you forward, hardly even conscious of your surroundings.
You try to scream for help, but the words die on your tongue as you sink further down, knowing that no one really cares. They may say they do, but deep down they don't. For what is the point in caring for someone who is already broken? Someone who cannot be repaired, and feel light without being overwhelmed by the dark.
Has my past shaped my future?
Don't I have a say in this, after all, it is
my life.


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