The Wall

Life. It's as simple as that. Good or bad, it's there. It's this block made of bricks. Sometimes others find the way to break it down; and it's all over. Sometimes that's better. The wall keeps us apart. Keeps us alive. Sometimes I want to jump over that wall; but I restrain. Is it cowardice? I suppose so. The worst of us fall to it. But I suppose being behind the wall itself is cowardice. Falling to it's trap. It's okay sometimes. To let the feeling of the emotion take over. Numbing you until you can't feel your fingers in front of your face. Until you can't see, until you can't breath, until everything within you stops. Everything blends. Nothing is the same. Your eyes can't remember the feeling of the sun; until your voice stops short and your body forgets how to move. You feel suffocated. And in most cases, you are.

Your life is paused. Everything in transit as life decides with what to do with you next. Pull you under or keep the surface?

;I can't write anymore, too touchy a topic, if you catch my drift?