You’re alone now, everything’s over, they can’t get you here, your finally safe
Safe? Is that what they’re calling it now? Such an big word, but with what does it help you?
Not with the shadows, who seem to be getting closer every night
Or with the demons, stuck in all your thoughts and dreams
The scars, behind every line a more horrific story
Or the memories, Oh surely, don’t forget the memories. They suck you back in, into that time you wanted to forget, that time you try to forget, that time you just cannot forget.
Those little things, those things you can recognize in all of the things around you
In the dreams you have, or maybe you should call them nightmares
And in the sounds you hear, who unwillingly push you back to That time
Or maybe the worst of all, your reflexes.
They come back to you every moment of your life. You just have to see or hear that one little thing and your back to the thing they tried so hard to install in you.
Your survival instinct.
They said it was to keep you alive, to keep you safe.
But is it truly called living, when the only thing you can do is breath. Living from one day to the other, trying to find that little spark of light in the sea of darkness.
Because it changes the way you look at the world, you get restrained, hidden, cynical. All of those pretty words trying to hide the thing you are really feeling.