From inside a broken mind.

There is no outward breath of relief after holding it in for so long, you almost suffocate.
..Keep holding.
'Till your panicking, frantic, oxygens absent, your body is lashing out, craving a single gasp,
..Keep holding.
Every inch of mentality, pleading for sanity, every-limb on your binded denied physicality's screaming in need of release LET ME BREATH.
..Keep holding.

This is how I feel.

There's never a relief. Never a brief break from all the aches and pain set deep.
Friction burn that keeps on rubbing, and just when-it starts to heal, the blister that's been growing, gets court, pulled, and starts to peal. Bleeding begins.
It's a record track that's scratched, it skips, it jumps, gets stuck, sounds ..crap.
It's the guilty with-in after awkward, embarrassing, failed attempts at blanking all your black.
The inner black. The dark, the haunted heart, the child that's been robbed of her indi style of art... It once was colourful. She used to smile. Innocents, ignorance, oblivious bliss... denial.
Until the world took of its mask, and it hissed and it scratched and it laughed.. at her happy.
It twisted its harshness, inside her mind, and climbed, clapping.. at its sly-ness,
Mapping out its rout. Imprinting its-self on emotions, indenting little spikes inside her joy.
Inventing new reasons to suffer, self sabotage, set-out simply to destroy.
Un till all of the joy was linked to triggers, triggers that plummet and spiral, and at the end of the spiral's the same thing. Anxiety, depression, a broken mind.