Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
there's a balance to be

struck, the tightrope

between creativity and

burnout; a match lit from

both ends and I'm burning

alive.


I don't know when to stop.
screaming in a

soundproof room

the feeling of

tiny cuts opening

my scars displayed;

bright red. It's like

I'm unraveling, and

I don't want to stop.



"It feels like relief."

— The End —